Hark, it’s Mark, in an ode when it snowed

posted on April 20, 2010 in Stuff

Mark is sliding, always sliding, ever sliding down the hill
Whatever the cause, whatever the reason
There is no cure, there is no pill

The others in the group, our little troop
Carefully treading, weight spreading
As we make our way down the hill

But oh look, it’s Mark
Another tumble, another spill
As he slides on his arse
Down Snowdon hill

The snow is real deep and the incline quite steep
Conditions to think, gosh this mountain could kill
But watch out, beep beep!
It’s Mark off his feet
Sliding on elbows down a ruddy great hill

It shouldn’t be funny,
No laughter, not a thrill
But Rosey is laughing and chuckling
As Mark slip, slides and crumbles down the mountain
Down the hill

Perhaps not tumbling, maybe not bumbling
But always mumbling, possibly grumbling
Down the mountain, down the hill
Always slipping, always sliding
A bit like Jack, and his missus, that girl; Jill.

Mark sliding down Snowdon

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