Carol Ann Duffy - Mrs Aesop lyrics

By Christ, he could bore for Purgatory. He was small, didn't prepossess. So he tried to impress. Dead men, Mrs Aesop, he'd say, tell no tales.Well let me tell you now that the bird in his hand shat on his sleeve, never mind the two worth less in the bush. Tedious. Going out was worst. He'd stand at our gate, look, then leap; scour the hedgerows for a shy mouse, the fields for a sly fox, the sky for one particular swallow that couldn't make a summer. The jackdaw, according to him, envied the eagle. Donkeys would, on the whole, prefer to be lions. On one appalling evening stroll, we pa**ed an old hare snoozing in a ditch - he stopped and made a note - and then, about a mile further on, a tortoise, somebody's pet, creeping, slow as marriage, up the road. Slow but certain, Mrs Aesop, wins the race. a**hole. What race? What sour grapes? What silk purse, sow's ear, dog in a manger, what big fish? Some days I could barely keep awake as the story droned on towards the moral of itself. Action, Mrs A., speaks louder than words. And that's another thing, the s** was diabolical. I gave him a fable one night about a little co*k that wouldn't crow, a razor-sharp axe with a heart blacker than the pot that called the kettle. I'll cut off your tail, all right, I said, to save my face, That shut him up. I laughed last, longest.