Post by Jack McArup on Feb 7, 2010 18:32:34 GMT
The Lady Lynn from Splott
With apologies to Alfred Lord Tennyson
On either side of Regent Street
The crowds rush by on urgent feet
Onwards they go past Oxford Street
To the BBC’s most learned seat
The iv’ry-towered Babble-a-lot.
Enclosed within, a maiden fair
Spends her days and nights in there
Running fingers through flame-red hair
The Lady Lynn from Splott.
Only DJs starting early
Beating London’s hurley-burley
See that face so fresh and girly.
Just her voice, broadcasting clearly,
Escapes the fortress Babbl’a lot.
She knows not why she has been cursed
The outside world for best or worst
Out of bounds since the day that first
The lady came from Splott.
People in the world outside
In cars and trucks and buses ride.
Phone calls come in from far and wide
With traffic news from nationwide
To her desk in Babbl’a lot.
Emails and video screens will tell
All on the highway is not well
And this info feeds the spell
That holds poor Lynn from Splott.
One fateful day when feeling lonely
And sick of contact telephonely
About highways restricted conely
She watched a TV screen, her only
Outside view from Babbl’a lot.
And there below she saw a Landy
In Portland Place so close and handy.
“It’s so unfair the curse has banned me”
Said the Lady Lynn from Splott.
She left her desk, she left the room,
Through an open window, the traffic’s boom
Called her towards its vroom-vroom-vroom
And thoughtless of impending doom
She looked down from Babbl’a lot.
Computers crashed, the software died,
Monitors cracked from side to side,
“The curse is come upon me” cried
The Lady Lynn from Splott.
With apologies to Alfred Lord Tennyson
On either side of Regent Street
The crowds rush by on urgent feet
Onwards they go past Oxford Street
To the BBC’s most learned seat
The iv’ry-towered Babble-a-lot.
Enclosed within, a maiden fair
Spends her days and nights in there
Running fingers through flame-red hair
The Lady Lynn from Splott.
Only DJs starting early
Beating London’s hurley-burley
See that face so fresh and girly.
Just her voice, broadcasting clearly,
Escapes the fortress Babbl’a lot.
She knows not why she has been cursed
The outside world for best or worst
Out of bounds since the day that first
The lady came from Splott.
People in the world outside
In cars and trucks and buses ride.
Phone calls come in from far and wide
With traffic news from nationwide
To her desk in Babbl’a lot.
Emails and video screens will tell
All on the highway is not well
And this info feeds the spell
That holds poor Lynn from Splott.
One fateful day when feeling lonely
And sick of contact telephonely
About highways restricted conely
She watched a TV screen, her only
Outside view from Babbl’a lot.
And there below she saw a Landy
In Portland Place so close and handy.
“It’s so unfair the curse has banned me”
Said the Lady Lynn from Splott.
She left her desk, she left the room,
Through an open window, the traffic’s boom
Called her towards its vroom-vroom-vroom
And thoughtless of impending doom
She looked down from Babbl’a lot.
Computers crashed, the software died,
Monitors cracked from side to side,
“The curse is come upon me” cried
The Lady Lynn from Splott.