Conversation With The Flying Plates

I'll tell you what you want to hear Tell me where I'd like to go Ask me where the Summer went That way maybe I don't know And while my life's not in a rut Every weekend I take flight Given that today's the day Presumably tonight's must be the night Accustomed though I am To crying in the rain What's the point of counting sheep When by the time you get To ten or twelve you're asleep You are my love you are my life It's emblazoned on my chest Every time we have a row I just keep it covered with a vest You ask if I am anxious How this will pan out Let's just say until it's foiled Answer does I fear Lie nowhere near the soil And so the conversation With the flying plates begin You see a pattern now emerging On a plate shell fling It doesn't matter where it goes As long as it goes fast You recognize your favourite China cup as it goes past And was the Meissen so enticingly That I had to leave Surely the fact it was a wedding present Would ensure It would remain secure Like to think within a year We'll look back on this and laugh Only problem is it's year One year on's already what we've had Accustomed though I am To diamond studded ears Which by the way on men As it's just in one Look when hung Bent And so the conversation With the flying plates continues In the yellow corner Flexing all her muscular vim Throwing overhand or underhand It makes no odds Lovely bit of Royal Doulton Heading for ye Gods And in the midst of all this carnage Comes a sobering thought Most of what has been destroyed Can never be re bought Such a shame now in the morning As the maid comes in On her morning stint Looking on in shock After taking stock Of what's around her feet