Away the rubbish that I make
The clutter I want tossed onto the heap
In orange bibs they’re dressed
Slung casual o’er their vest
With Daventry District Council
Writ ‘cross their van
They make an awful racket
But take home a tidy packet
To spend on treats and holidays abroad
They hoist up the bins
Onto the lorry’s rear pins
Which empties their contents
In to the void
In will go the shoes
The empty bottles of booze
The boxes and detritus from the sink
The mouldy old kipper
A half chewed slipper
And all the things that really
Start to stink
Then down the street they’ll go
In rain or sleet or snow
And take away the waste from the house
The truck gets emptied out
The socks, the box and trout
To end their days as debris
In the ground
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