For rubble and for refuse we
Now have, and give, a skip
For it is being gathered, see,
To take it to the tip!
And Gazu, on his day with us
Already piled it high,
He started early with no fuss
And plans to reach the sky.
Now, all the medical-type scenes
Quite keep me on the hop;
I know that for my good it means,
But when’s it going to stop?
First thing today before my food
More blood for tests was drawn,
I know it’s going to do me good,
But leaves me feeling worn.
And then, this afternoon will start,
The postponed first of ten
New radio, a day apart,
So here we go again!
Quite daily, though, it cannot be;
The weekend interferes;
But that is best of news for me
And has me giving cheers!
Till Moan-day, when it will resume,
I’m free to be just . . . free;
And will seek fun, you may presume,
To uttermost degree!