Annoying Wood Pigeon

When I'm grown up, or after I'm dead

I'm going to be an annoying wood pigeon.

I shall coo down chimney pots at top volume

And eat all the thrown out bread,

Before anyone else can get near it.

I shall have noisy, flappy quickies at the tops of trees

On insubstantial branches, which can't support my weight,

Or my bird's, who will be a bird.

I will repeat the same few words endlessly,

I shall just state things

Over and over again,

And have rainbows on my wings,

And I'll glide on currents of air

And not care

About owt

I shall be even more free than a man in a scaffolding gang,

Swearing and singing and throwing poles at people's heads,

Life will be one long hoot.