The flying rats circle over K.C. News,
roosting at night, dropping off their poos,
layering the slabs in a grey film of crap,
then off to the Post Office, to deliver more on that.
We need a Dad’s Army to defend our streets!
To patrol the pavements, with an eye out for shit:
Imagine the scenes, on Uckfield’s wide paths,
a platoon of pensioners blasting the pigeons apart!