We went to the Range yesterday
To look at some things that we “needed.”
In the gardening aisle, Carole spotted a thing
To put in the garden we’d weeded.
“Instead of a breakfast buy me this,”
Said Carole while clutching a rod
“It’s an owl, can’t you see? And it glows in the dark!”
If you ask me, that’s a little bit odd.
The silent hunter, the owl
Swoops from trees onto mice with no sound
I’m not sure that they glow in the dark
Their prey would know when they’re around.
But here we are with the owl
On a stick that you push in the dirt
I was messing around, not looking about
So I walked into a thing and got hurt.
Before the owl had been spotted
It was a ladybird playing guitar
That glowed in the dark much like the owl
And was a hell of a lot cheaper by far.
But it’s fine, I figured, to buy the owl
Rather than a breakfast we’d eat
And I reckoned in case it turned out to be shit
I’d keep hold of the receipt.
That £4.99 was money well spent
Because there’s one thing that this owl’s not showing
It’s outside now, standing up in the dark,
And the bastard thing just isn’t glowing.