The Laird of Dunoon
The Laird of Dunoon
Leans back in his chair,
Trousers rolled up to the knee.
Easing his braces
With courteous graces
He sips at his Newcastle B.
The Laird of Dunoon
In the newspaper bonnet
Smiles as he looks out to sea.
Taking a drag
From a finely rolled fag,
He sips at his Newcastle B.
The Laird of Dunoon
In the Fair Isle pullover
Whistles 'The Rose of Tralee'.
He swivels his hips
As he purses his lips,
And sips at his Newcastle B.
The Laird of Dunoon
Glances down at his Rolex
And sees that it's time for his tea.
He slips on his socks,
Puts his specs in a box
And finishes his Newcastle B.
Ah, if only all of life could be as this.
But regretfully, it cannot!
ТЕЛЕГРАМКанал с обзорами, анонсами новинок и книжными подборками
Книжный Вестник
Бот для удобного поиска и скачивания книг
Книжный Бот
Свежие любовные романы в удобных форматах
Любовные романы
О психологии, саморазвитии и личностном росте
Саморазвитие
Детективы и триллеры, все новинки
Детективы
Фантастика и фэнтези, все новинки
Фантастика
ВКОНТАКТЕ