A monocle, a violin,
A fancy tailcoat.
I held a tray the British way
And never did I gloat.
A ball and chain, a little cot,
A fancy jumpsuit too.
Everyone thinks I’m guilty,
And I bet that you do too.
So now I’m serving “Chef’s Surprise”
In the prisoners’ cafe.
And with each bow I think of how
To escape, the British way.
The Daily Travesty 