without biscuits

Where’s my biscuits I want to shout

Food laid out in rows and rows

People heaping plates with culinary delights

faces round me all a glow

Merry making smiles and nods

Where’s my biscuits I want to shout

I don’t give a monkeys ass

For curry no matter how nice

Or salmon served in glowing splendour

I want my biscuits I want to shout

Im salivating at the thought of

Chocolate covered finger sticks

Oh god the taste on my tongue!

I.m feeling lightheaded

My sugar fix is badly needed

Jammy Dodgers in crunchy circles

Or traddy good old custard creams

My granny’s favourite

Oh what I’d give to have the gaul

To dare to stand and stamp my foot

Bawl at full throttle bang on the table

I want my biscuits

I want them now!

Not in bloody half a day

When this greedy famished shower

Stop chatting with their mouths full

And politely request biscuits and coffee

To finish off a lovely meal

I want my biscuits

I can’t stand it any longer

The chef and me are about to get matey

And when he gives me that cold hard stare as I push past the

Note pinned to the door

That says only staff may enter here. I will

Look him in the eye and bawl louder still

I want my biscuits my man

I want them now!

Or else I will have to shoot you dead

And get the bloody things myself