The Constable's Tale

  By Exile

(With apologies to Gilbert & Sullivan)

 

I am a very model of a 1950ís Constable
Consistent, caring, impressive bearing, totally respectable
In black and white I kick the shite from the village disreputable
I am a very model of a 1950ís Constable

Thereís one or two, of the village crew, where Iím especially vigilant
The ĎDark Destroyerí, his own lawyer, bully, thief and violent
This psychopath incurs my wrath, heís as clever as heís truculent,
Oh Lord I pray heíll swing one day, while there is capital punishment


Contrastingly thereís Baldrick, whose furtive habits bother me
Behind the mill, lurking, still, a sinister shadow by the Ďhatí tree
(His case is sad, heís not so bad as the big man from the Forestry)
If I get it right, heíll get a fright, and do Ďtimeí like the other three 

Itís my belief, our classic thiefís an incurable kleptomaniac
A snurgler and cat burglar, a police record like an almanac
A handsome, harmless, hopeless case, a grafter who doesnít slack,
A likeable flawed genius, whose just gone off on the wrong track

When clearing pubs on Saturday nights Iím confident and competent
At PomPomís  Bar, the rabble are belligerent and insolent 
At Alf Lindores, they close their doors, the clientele less impudent 
At 1262 I have one or two, with the restrained, refined, intelligent

My membership most secret of our very ancient fraternity
For advancement in the County, an essential, a necessity
Itís only fair being on the square to shroud ourselves in mystery
Metaphorically speaking Iím a pillar of society

 

COPYRIGHT Ė Calluna Publishing 2012