By Spike Milligan

“Help, help,” said a man. “I’m drowning.”
“Hang on,” said a man from the shore.
“Help, help,” said the man. “I’m not clowning.”
“Yes, I know, I heard you before.
Be patient, dear man, who is drowning,
You, see I’ve got a disease.
I’m waiting for a Doctor J. Browning.
So do be patient, please.”
“How long,” said the man who was drowning. “Will it take for the Doc to arrive? “
“Not very long,” said the man with the disease. “Till then try staying alive.”
“Very well,” said the man who was drowning. “I’ll try and stay afloat.
By reciting the poems of Browning
And other things he wrote.”
“Help, help,” said the man with the disease, “I suddenly feel quite ill.”
“Keep calm.” said the man who was drowning, “Breathe deeply and lie quite still.”
“Oh dear,” said the man with the awful disease. “I think I’m going to die.”
“Farewell,” said the man who was drowning.
Said the man with the disease, “Goodbye.”
So the man who was drowning, drownded
And the man with the disease past away.
But apart from that,
And a fire in my flat,
It’s been a very nice day.