I have to say that I am rather upset, well, deeply offended actually, that the Nationwide Building Society (with whom I used to have an account) has so far chosen not to approach me for my very affecting poem on the joys of home ownership.

Burglar

Someone’s been in my house,
broke my china cat,
took a knife to the three piece suite,
shat on my Welcome mat.

Someone’s been in my house,
ransacked my CD’s,
smashed the television,
let the vegetables unfreeze.

Someone’s been in my house
while I was away in the sun,
warmed himself on the microwave,
thought he was having fun.

Someone’s been in my house,
got drunk on whisky and gin,
slept in my silk pyjamas,
didn’t hear me coming in.

Someone’s been in my house.
Well, burglary’s a sin.
I killed the cunt and cut him up,
put the pieces in the bin.

Someone’s been in my house
but he’s nothing but a stain.
I claimed on the insurance
and buggered off again.

I am on the phone right now to the Bradford & Bingley.