My old Grandad, not the brightest of souls,
His name was Michael Flannery.
Bald as a coot but still used a comb
And he works in the local cannery.
Doesn't like sunbeds but loved to be bronzed,
He browns up in a tannery,
He didn't want to put his wife in a home,
Poor Nanna is now in a granary!
