Rosie sings, I strum. Heavy reverb to hide my terrible playing.

Song for the Siren

John Wayne Gacy

The Fovant Scorecard Incident

The day was clear
The drizzle did blow 
The wicket bouncy,
It kept low.

The outfield a minefield,
Smooth as a plate.
The ball was swinging,
Ramrod straight.

Raw pace did the damage,
Guile was the key,
The first caught behind,
It was plum LB.

The very next ball 
Knocked the middle stump out
Caught in the deep 
off a mighty clout.

The third … the third
That’s where it gets hazy
Rumour, myth
What is, what maybe
 
It was a dot ball
It was a wicket
The finger went up
It stayed in his pocket
The crowd went wild
There was no one there 
but a dog and a child
The scorer was drunk
The scorer was mad
The scorer I heard was 
the bowler’s own dad.

What does it mean, what had it meant,
The Fovant Scorecard Incident?

So much hangs on this strained ligament,
The Fovant Scorecard Incident

None of you are innocent,
Of the Fovant Scorecard Incident

Anthony John McGowan