FAR NORTH

By

Sean Bean

Far North,

Past Leeds, York and Hull,

Where compass don’t work

And you’ll freeze t’yer skull.

Few amenities there,

And brew’s hard to find.

But there’s grub to be ‘ad.

If yer brain’s ‘alf a mind.

Was out sniping fer cockles

When up popped a rabbit,

But it fucked off and gone,

Afore I could grab it.

But nowt could I find,

Just reindeer ‘n’ buzzard.

All antlers ‘n’ feather,

Got stuck in me guzzard.

Me belly was shining,

Me tongue turned to ash

Fer a cat’s cunt-full of ale!

Had to drink me own slash.

I sat frozen and stiff,

No tale for an hero.

Like that poor bugger Jim,

From Bravo Two Zero.