A 'les Miserables' CS5M
At the end of the picnic there's not much left over
And there's wasps in the honey and ants in the jam
And the children are in tears, and all of the grown ups are sulking
And the baby has thrown her rattle, out of her pram
What a day for an outing.
At the end of the picnic the weather is starting
To rain and the journey to come's looking long
And the traffic's backed up and we'd all travel quicker by carting
Our stuff strapped to our backs like the Viet Cong
And the baby is pouting.
What is it that makes the outdoors so appealing?
From a distance you're sure that there's harmony there
But in close up you find that you're deafened by all the pigs squealing
And you're bound to end up with ear-wigs in your hair
Which is vaguely depressing.
So we sit in the car and we eat our rolls slowly
To put off the moment we have to set off
Because one of the children is greenish and poorly
And one of the adults is starting to cough
It's the crumbs, I am guessing.
So we should count the blessings we find in the city
Where the clouds of pollution have killed off the gnats
And the picnic when spread out indoors is less pretty
But also less pestered by everyone's cats
Who are looking for titbits.