I've given up, I've packed it in
I've made me mind up, stopped smokin'
On New Year's Eve I had me last
The date was set, the die was cast
The smell of it now makes me sick
I've bit me nails right down to the quick
Yon newsagent looks at me queer
'D'you want your fags? ' 'Too bloody dear! '
At night I daren't go for a jar
All puffin' away sat at the bar
I can't rest there, I sit and fidget
I buy ale in, that stuff with the widget
Those that dare to cross my path
Get full extent of new found wrath
Our dog knows when me moods turn foul
Walks past me chair and starts to howl
He runs past now the clever mutt
So's not to feel t'weight of me foot
Toffees, peanuts by the bag
I've substituted for a fag
Telly on, content I sit
But now I find me pants don't fit
I got up once to make a brew
Me button popped and off it flew
So now it looks like exercise
Required to reduce gut, bum, thighs
I'll get a workout video
By that famous lass, y'know
It should shift this great spare tyre
If not famous lass is a liar
I've kept me pledge right to the letter
I must admit I'm feeling better
Me moods have gone, I've cheered right up
And in the pub I calmly sup
I've more brass now I don't buy fags
So go on, give us a few drags!
Esra Sloblock
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/givin-up/
