Large jar of bull sperm, bag of dead worms,
a stuffed puffer fish thats distinctly on the turn.
Bishops hat and robe, hanging from his crook,
pate foi gras left by celebrity cook.
Three false eyeballs in a jar of pickled eggs,
gas mask stuffed inside a hairy false leg.
Two Tibetan bells, tinned erectile gel,
pair of Turkish trousers with an Oriental smell.
One stolen painting by a guy called Picasso,
case stuffed with suppositorys to stick up your arsehole.
Monkey wrench, park bench, old tramps fedora,
thirty five bottles of Skin 'Eads hair restorer.
A bangle, a tangle, handle off a Jag,
letter of subscription to a pornographic mag.
Four illegal immigrants, parrot on a perch,
a blousy old tart whose been left in the lurch.
Come down the station any time you wish,
but please hurry up, whoever owns the fish.
(The 2.32 for Eidelstrop leaves five minutes ago)