Night Owl keeps on ragging me,
About my housework chores,
Well, this is not my favourite subject,
To me it always bores.
So, to appease the Poetry bastards,
I will get of my backside,
I will finally tidy up this place,
Before the proprty values slide.
So, where to start I wonder?
I think it's with the rug,
I'll carefully sweep up every crisp,
Every butt and bug.
Carefully I'll pile them up,
And to the right place bequeath,
I'll diligently store them in the right place,
Lift up the rug - underneath.
Then the dishes I will tackle,
Stacked precariously in the sink,
The cockraoches have been feasting,
The pile it sure does stink!
So, outside they shall all be thrown,
And for those that survive,
I shall hose the grimy bits off,
They shall know they're alive.
Them to the bathroom I shall venture,
Here we know it as a loo,
No stain shall be left unscrubbed,
I shall fear no poo.
The stains that are so tenacious,
I shall not be placid,
I will attack them with great gusto,
With hydrochloric acid.
The empty beer bottles will not go to waste,
This I will assure you,
Those suckers can be used again,
For Night Owl's Hellish brew.
The pizza cartons will be stored,
The rubbish truck coming soon,
Until then I'm sure the astronauts,
Will see it from the moon.
The tears in the upholstery,
With thread I shall soon mend,
Anything wider than a foot,
For professionals I will send.
The complaints from the neighbours,
And the legal writs,
I will direct them to Bill Clinton,
He'll be further in the, er, troubles.
The damage to the big tele,
For this Flipper we thank,
We'll seal it up with sealant,
And make a big fish tank.
For the damage to the paintwork,
It is easily mended,
We'll bag on some coloured clay,
And call it "artfully renderred".
For the low hanging chandalier,
Upon which was swung,
I won't name the culprit,
Or the causing type of fun, 
But I'll get a volunteer to go up,
And from the roof pull it through,
It is an easy fix you see,
And the least that we can do.
To finish of the cleaning further,
To be pleasing to the nose,
I'll venture down to the garden,
And run through the hose.
But all this thinking's made me thirsty,
I feel a little queer,
Ahhh, I'm not doing cleaning,
Give me another beer!                                                    

Cheers from the Land of Oz