Humor

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When I was nine I felt too old for roundabouts and swings,
I'd lean against the railings and I'd call them 'baby things';
I'd say: 'I'm going places where the wooden horse can't go!',
I'd climb a tree and sneer at children playing down below.
I wouldn't mount the climbing frame, the see-saw wouldn't ride,
I giggled at the 'kiddies' as they tumbled down the slide.

I'm thirty four and married and we have a family,
and every year we spend a fortnight playing by the sea;
I save like mad so we can have a holiday in style,
and spend a fortune every day along The Golden Mile.
I love the giant funfair with its music and its shouts,
I love The House of Laughter and the swirling roundabouts.

I wear my straw sombrero and I buy my candyfloss,
I work the one-armed bandits and I shrug aside my loss;
I try to win by throwing darts, I try the rifle range,
I ride the Helter Skelter and I never think it strange
that here I am, a grown-up, in the children's Happydrome,
who once sneered at the children in the playground near my home.

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