I was once in a mixed sauna in Liverpool
Minding my own business, when I overheard
A few snatches of interesting conversation
Which summed up this fine Lancastrian paradise
And the folks who live there, if you can call it that.
"Oi met theess bairrd in the poob last noight, d'ye know,
Noice bairrd she was, noice purr of knockers on 'er, too;
Said she's meet me this evening loik, oonder the clock
On Loime Streeet staytion, so Oi 'ope she turns up loik,
'cos Oi an't had any loik for a coupla weeks."

His companion responded wisely (man to man)
As he rearranged his genitals thoughtfully:
"Oi yewsed to 'ave a bairrd once, loik, loovely lookin' bairrd
An' all she was, Oi really looved that bairrd, didn'Oi?
Oi dun ev'rything for that fookin' bairrd, Oi deed.
Give 'er a baiby an' all, 'er Mum looked after it.
Only coom 'ome early one evening, loik, fook me,
'n' found 'er in bed with soom fookin' black fella,
So Oi fookin' killed 'im there 'n' then, on the job.
Fookin' judge gimme eight years loik, fookin' bastard."

The first speaker was much impressed with this sad tale,
And philosophically summed things up as follows:
"Yerss, them bairrds 'ave got yew bouy the short 'n' curlies,
'cos they've got soomthing us fellas fooking want bad,
and fookin' don't they joost know it, they fookin' do,
You can bet your fookin' loife on that too, them bairrds."
It was only when the two men parted later
That I realised they were two complete strangers
Just having a casual Liverpudlian chat,
You just can’t beat  the subtle Scouse code of honour.
 

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