My name is Joey,
I suppose it had to be.
For I'm a little budgie,
It's plain for all to see.
I have a nice house,
Where they look after me.
My cage is cleaned out often,
And the food and water's free.
There is a little mirror,
That keeps me company.
It reflects another budgie,
And you know
He looks just like me.
But no matter how I
Chatter to him,
He never does to me.
The lady in the house,
She talks constantly.
Tries to make me talk,
But it's much too hard
For me.
I'd rather whistle and
Ring my bell,
This I can do really well.
In the evening the lady lets me out,
And from wall to wall,
I fly about.
When she calls I go to her,
If I were a cat,
I believe I'd purr.
But I'm not, so I sit and nibble
At the roots of her grey hair.
Well, It's only fair,
For I'm just a little budgie
And it lets her know I'm there. By Roy Carey
Bradford Park Drive
Bolton
Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.
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