(In memory of the late PC Martin Fletcher)
What am I bloody
well doing here?
Bussed up
all the way from
Northamptonshire,
we’re knackered
before we start,
the overtime will
be handy mind
with our Ben off to
college.
Keeping the peace
in a sodding field,
bleeding daft.
I’ve never seen so
many police horses,
stay out of their
way, big buggers.
Here we go, it’s
kicking off,
it’s funny really,
we were only
chatting to these blokes
half an hour ago,
they’d come nearly
as far as us
now its fisticuffs!
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