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The Annual Tower outing
Is all over bar the shouting
And everyones returned in fair condition
The first tower on our list
Predictably we missed
(This is I should point out, an old tradition)
The Organiser reckoned
We should press on to the second
Which we did - to find no-one had the key
We waited half and hour
By that weather beaten tower
Then went to try our luck at Number Three
There our eager hearts beat faster
As we spied the kindly vicar
Who was waiting with a smile beside the door
He ushered us inside
Showed us all the bells with pride
A pity they were on the Vestry floor
After that we made our way
To the highlight of the day
The Eight Bells with a formidable thirst
The ale was smooth and strong
But the draught a little too long
So the fourth tower went the same way as the first
We managed to arrive
Right on time at Number Five
But our navigator wailed in lamentation
We were forty miles at least
To the west (or was it east?)
Of our carefully selected destination
We'd be hours and hours too late
For the
last (a lovely eight)
Besides we sensed a strong insistant call
As we downed our seventh jar
We agreed it was by far
The most successful Tower outing of them all
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