With apologies to Edward Lear, his owl and his pussycat.
The lion and the unicorn went by train
On the East Coast line from York.
They sipped champagne on their southbound campaign,
Ate canapés with a fork.
The lion looked sly in the unicorn’s eye
And said with a twitch of his mane:
“I’ll wed you, my dear, by this time next year,
If you sell me your stake in this train,
This train,
This train,
If you sell me your stake in this train”.
The unicorn said, “oh – my leonine beau,
I love your lucrative roar.
I’ll give you my share and serve it up rare,
If you swear to invest some more.”
They shook hoof and claw and each other swore,
And lion wrote out a receipt.
But lion’s persuasion at Doncaster station
Made unicorn forfeit her seat,
Her seat,
Her seat,
Made unicorn forfeit her seat.
“As an entrepreneur,” said lion to her,
“And much as I value my clients,
Your second-rate arse is now in First Class;
I’ll sue you for noncompliance”.
The unicorn searched in vain for a perch;
The train overcrowded at Grantham.
And rocketing fares since she gave up her shares
Had the passengers all held to ransom,
Ransom,
Ransom,
Had the passengers all held to ransom.
She returned to the cat, now curiously fat,
And said, “You remember that time
We built up by hand this green, pleasant land
Together – our love was sublime?”
Said lion, “Hold fire, your ticket’s expired,
But – weighing up profit and loss –
A slice of your shank, a pound of your flank
Might get you as far as Kings Cross,
Kings Cross,
Kings Cross,
Might get you as far as Kings Cross”.
The unicorn sighed and meekly complied
And rested her rear on his plate.
The lion divided the meat she provided,
Each shareholder’s portion by weight.
He nibbles the lung, a lean piece of tongue;
The heart he “invests” oversea.
Returning up north, each journey henceforth,
He feasts on commuters for tea,
For tea,
For tea;
He feasts on commuters for tea.
Cliff James
The lion and the unicorn went by train
On the East Coast line from York.
They sipped champagne on their southbound campaign,
Ate canapés with a fork.
The lion looked sly in the unicorn’s eye
And said with a twitch of his mane:
“I’ll wed you, my dear, by this time next year,
If you sell me your stake in this train,
This train,
This train,
If you sell me your stake in this train”.
The unicorn said, “oh – my leonine beau,
I love your lucrative roar.
I’ll give you my share and serve it up rare,
If you swear to invest some more.”
They shook hoof and claw and each other swore,
And lion wrote out a receipt.
But lion’s persuasion at Doncaster station
Made unicorn forfeit her seat,
Her seat,
Her seat,
Made unicorn forfeit her seat.
“As an entrepreneur,” said lion to her,
“And much as I value my clients,
Your second-rate arse is now in First Class;
I’ll sue you for noncompliance”.
The unicorn searched in vain for a perch;
The train overcrowded at Grantham.
And rocketing fares since she gave up her shares
Had the passengers all held to ransom,
Ransom,
Ransom,
Had the passengers all held to ransom.
She returned to the cat, now curiously fat,
And said, “You remember that time
We built up by hand this green, pleasant land
Together – our love was sublime?”
Said lion, “Hold fire, your ticket’s expired,
But – weighing up profit and loss –
A slice of your shank, a pound of your flank
Might get you as far as Kings Cross,
Kings Cross,
Kings Cross,
Might get you as far as Kings Cross”.
The unicorn sighed and meekly complied
And rested her rear on his plate.
The lion divided the meat she provided,
Each shareholder’s portion by weight.
He nibbles the lung, a lean piece of tongue;
The heart he “invests” oversea.
Returning up north, each journey henceforth,
He feasts on commuters for tea,
For tea,
For tea;
He feasts on commuters for tea.
Cliff James