fish farmer

My Mother-in-Law

My mother-in-law’s from Dudley,
I wouldn’t say she’s ugly,
But you wouldn’t take her out ‘til after dark.
If beauty is skin deep,
She must be inside out.
I’ve seen better looking beasts
Chasing pigeons in the park.

I wouldn’t say my mother-in-law is fat,
But her nickname down the bingo hall is ‘splat’!
She bought a cheap sombrero,
When she holidayed in Spain
And sat there on the beach
Like a walrus in a hat.

I tell you what, that woman can’t half eat
I think she must be hollow
From her neck down to her feet.
If there was a contest for scoffing loads of grub,
A herd of bloody elephants
Would struggle to compete.

And at talking, she would always get top scores.
I swear the woman’s got bionic jaws.
And the thing that makes it worse
Is her high-pitched squeaky voice.
She sounds something like a cat
Scratching blackboards with its claws.

I wouldn’t say my mother-in-law is old,
But judging by the stories I’ve been told,
She was hunting fossils
When they were still alive
And she was baby-sitting Jesus
When the Wise Men brought the gold.

Now she’s come to live with us
Oh what a thrill.
And it drives me up the bloody wall, but still
I’ll put up with her snoring
And I’ll feed her what she wants
‘cause she’s instructed her solicitor
To put me in the will!