Bull and Gate

I remember when the farmer owned this land
for many years I lived here, my life was always grand
He maintained all the hedges, he looked after the woods
He kept the lanes clear and always in good mood

but now he has now gone, his land has now been sold
to some rich person from a town or so I have been told
They have a lot of money, can’t give it to the poor
But now they have moved in, our life is now a chore.

No hedges are now cut, the verges are now a mess
They say they are a busy, and all of this gives them stress
The ditches over flowing, for years not been maintained
and because of all the water, there’s pot holes in the lane

I have never ever seen them, do a bit of work
I don’t think they own a spade, nor know how it does work
They have a live in nanny, a gardener does their chores
they even have a cook, surely they get bored

but they are never there. They don’t listen to their land
No notice that they neighbours, don’t have their life so grand
They moan about the weather, but never see it rain
They are always on holiday, no reason to complain

But still I love the place I live. Even though I am afloat
Maybe they would buy me a nice new shiny boat
The council doesn’t care, unless it gets to late
wait for the bull to bolt and then you shut the gate