A Right Tea Leaf

Your Cockney translation skills will be tested to the limit with this one!

Lend this short jackanory your ten speeds and time
That life for a tea leaf’s not lemon, you’ll find
I’ve done bird in the bucket – the price to get scratch
Cos me income and lifestyle were never a match

I was jack in the jack with me jazz in the jack
When I felt how me barnet stood up on me back
A bottle came charging while blocking me way
I instantly knew I’d out-welcomed me stay

‘E tried grabbing me nanny before I was gone
Got me fist in his boat – and the race was now on
I got out from the near with ‘is breath like a yoke
The Sweeney kept brusseling “Stop there, you stoke!”

If there’s something that gets on me West Ham reserves
It’s the prospect of shovel (although well deserved)
With me background it’s porridge the next time around
If it’s back to the boom, then I’d rather be brown

With the bottle be’ind me, I ran down the plate
With me crust on a plate, well, me plates better rate
I threw off me weasel, to speed up some more
Shame – I’d bought it last week, with the whistle I wore

There was no smash-and-grab or a sosay in sight
So fast on me Bromleys I rushed through the night
I leapt down the frog with the cop in pursuit
Then saw me salvation, a battle called Boots

Well, unnoticed I entered the warm nuclear space
The bottle, unknowing, continued ‘is chase
I’d been running so ‘ard that me biscuits were weak
Well, a tiddley restores you when future looks bleak

I ordered a needle and Phil to calm down
I was Hank and his brother, me new making sounds
Me choice Alexander, as big as a ‘orse,
Is Lilian and jockeys and army of course

While downing me Jim I kept butchering ’round
And suddenly ‘eard some familiar sounds
I was pleased to find Chinas all over the jack
They asked me: “What wooden?” – I told them the tacks

We did rabbit and rum about donkeys long gone
How I’d ‘alf-inched Tom Foolery all Toblerone
With bugs in me skies I kept ordering pigs
We continued our bowler and cheered with each swig

Then the grasshopper’s back – would you Adam and Eve!
We were ‘aving a Turkish and now I must leave
His left mince had an ocean as large as me fist
And I who had thought that me punch might ‘ave missed

Well, an elephant’s too small for ‘iding be’ind
I threw ladies on th’ cain; put me bacons in lineT
hey still would outrun ‘im, me rhythm’n’blues
A matter of me ‘aving too much to lose

Then the pleasure came pouring; no Auntie around
Somehow it made Sweeney now losing ‘is ground
Me doggies were barking, I was cream but at ease
In me callards I carried a truckload of bees

I came to me field with the ten pouring down
I went down the apples, me Pope’s underground
Me trouble received me, our teapots in bed
How she bubbled with joy when I gave ‘er the bread!

Kim Ekemar (www.kimekemar.com)Published with kind permission of the author.