GLASS IN THE MASS.

Philbert walked west;
Nottingham proportianary fellow.
Through cinder banks
Insisting on a willing hillen world.
But reactionary jingoism
Blew up a crowd in his face;
Fanciful enlightened pilgrims,
Pretending to be gospel singers,
Marching down the street,
At your three beat pace,
Crowding in to be
The sights,
Come and see the sights,
Of more years,
Always on the right,
The people powdered in,
Around,
The choir.
Eroica,
Playing on Philbert’s trusty radio.
And on and on and on he went again,
Whilst people pushed and shoved
The parade before him,
Ever on and out of midland city in the rain.
All opened minds and clandestines
Did turn to see him coursing
From the heart of town;
They passed their views,
And cast their verdict,
Before they could word it,
Throwing their suspicion as one;
As Philbert walked in to say,
They threw their net,
And to this day the legend of goal keepers carries on.