The Barrow Downs Newspaper

[Morthoron]

LETTER TO THE EDITOR (Sung to the tune of 'Thick as a Brick')

Dear Downer Staff:

I hope you don't mind this editorial roast,
But your eyelids might blister while you're reading this post.
I oft' times do wonder if your writers can think --
Your grammar's atrocious and your spelling, it stinks.
But no news is good news on the Downs,
With the Barrow Wight making his rounds,
And Phantom and Alien are profound --
If you're dead in the head.

And this journalistic nightmare just won't go away,
Like a tidal wave of gravy that Oddwen has sprayed.
The sadists are typing with tongues in their cheeks
For the next edition due at the start of the week.
But the Downer is getting surreal,
Like Salvador Dali in high heels,
Whose fishnet stockings only appeal --
When you're dead in the head.

And the nausea I feel
Is welling today.
The Downer's a bad dream
I have every Sunday!
And I look with dread
(But I look just the same).

Bring me down some more beer, get me dazed till I puke.
I need to get wasted, to tell you the truth;
In order to read anymore of this tripe.

Sincerely,
Jethro Tull
Agronomist, Inventor of the Seed Drill
Shalbourne, Berkshire, England