Where does the mokey live
when you’re sound asleep at night
Is it shouting in your ear
to check that it’s alright

And where does the monkey play
When you sad lost and forlorn
Does it muck about with scissors
in an attempt to mow the lawn

But where does the mokey go
When your having fun with friends
Do he make you paranoid
Or did you count to ten

How does the monkey know
that it’s messed up again
When it’s too busy blubbering
or chewing on it’s pen

But who tells the monkey
That it’s right or it is wrong
Is it another monkey
That writes the words to this song

Who cares about the monkey
Apart from it itself
Are there queues of others
With neaderthal mental health

And where is the monkey
When it’s not you
Who are you anyway
Have you got the slightest clue

The post Where’s the Monkey appeared first on Mr Kirkland.

When he was a tiny tot too,
Little in his chair
Round the dinner table,
He was in dispair

Horrible green little beasts
Loitering on his plate
His father would not let him down,
Till every last one he ate

But in a much softer loving way
Without a shout or threat
He cunningly persuaded me
To love what I did hate

A surely simple promise
If I ate my sprouts at dinner
I’d get curly hair
You know – he was on to a winner

Now I’m twenty five years old
With locks of curly hair
Just look in my freezer,
There’s sprouts everywhere

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