I’d waited alone in the bar for my date

The time we’d arranged was a quarter past eight

But now it was nine and I hoped she’s just late

As embarrassed I sat on my own

But you’re never alone with your phone.

 

A warm summer’s day and it’s turned half past three

I’m thinking it’s time for my afternoon tea

Our Gert’s still in Primark and so it’s just me

Amid the Darbys and Jones

But you’re never alone with your phone.

 

I went to the match with Eddie my mate

He’s Rangers, I’m Celtic which each we berate;

Surrounded by blue I’m resigned to my fate;

Then we scored; I let out a groan.

And buried my head in my phone.

 

I’d gone to the Club for the Old People’s Dance

I’m no Valentino these days but by chance

I thought an old cougar had shot me a glance

But no! she’s just eyeing the scones

So I pretend that I’m using my phone.

 

I’m sure you’re aware but a word to the wise

For all of you Jonahs in that what I advise

Is to carry a Samsung, for Coop’s word applies

You’ll not want to seem on your own

But you’re never alone with a phone.