The Drop

We used to hang out in the Wood Larking about, covered in mud Playing block and climbing trees In the den, keeping out the breeze I’m looking down, not paying attention With no idea of my mate’s intention He’s somewhere about, not sure where? Maybe up the tall one for a dare Something fell, close to my foot Not sure what at first, not a nut It was brown and splatted on the ground Then another one with barely a sound A rotten smell started to emanate Something told me this was due to my mate I shifted my gaze up into the tree Where a bare arse was staring at me Thirty feet up, he was proud as punch I shook my head, correct in my hunch It was pretty impressive, it had to be said Although it was close, to landing on my head The only kid I know who’s had a shit from an Oak He came down with a stick and gave it a poke.