Jordie Takes Hostages
by John McMenamin
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Patrick took his family
For a run out in the car
He said, 鈥淲e鈥檒l call on Jordie Tuft
His cottage isn鈥檛 far鈥.
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Old Jordie, made them welcome
The Countryman, looked sly
Come step into my parlour
Said the spider, to the fly.
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Old Jordie, locked and barred the door
Dressed in a thorn-proof suit
Then old Jordie held them hostage
Like Brian Keenan鈥攊n Beirut.
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Please let us out, cried Patrick
His face was scared and red
Old Jordie, said, 鈥淚 want your wife
To dung out my auld bed鈥.
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鈥淒on鈥檛 step outside boy鈥 Jordie
said
Cause Tiny鈥檚 in the yard
He鈥檒l grab you boy, by the, you know what
And bite you boy, damned hard鈥.
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A SWAT team, from the PSNI
Are called out in great haste
They point their rifles at the cottage
Balaclavas 鈥 hide their face.
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鈥淕et back yeh boy鈥, yells Jordie
Using words that were quite rude
鈥淚鈥檝e got weapons of mass destruction, boy
And they鈥檙e filled with, Jeyes Fluid鈥.
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The police pull on their gas-masks
Behind the auld turf stack
It鈥檚 like a scene from Desert Storm
Away out there鈥攊n Iraq.
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But soon the siege is over
And no ones lying dead
Cause poor Patrick, payed the ransom
--Jordie, got a-dunged out bed.
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