Gentleman Rhymer Mr B Came to join the Dev Festivities 

With his chaphop stance and stiffened lip, slick with litotes, quick with a quip

In de-mob suit, moustache like Dali, ready to rock the joint with his banjolele, 

The dandies in the crowd were giving it large, with more tweed & brogue than N. Farage

And Good Lord gals! Those sequinned clothes Could turn a poor chap’s head y’know!’

The bass was boomin’, the feet were movin’, we were there for the words to get us groovin’

But sadly for the well heeled rhymer, he might as well have been a white faced mimer

For the sound in the hall was so bally dreadful, that all his words went down an aural plughole

Which was a shame, as he can entertain and it was a good night despite the strain

So, jolly well done Mr B old chap!

When you return let’s hope the sound’s not *rap