Kilroy Is Here

I'm the writer-in-residence at the Sally Bash,

my last known address was Knotty Ash,

I'd bathe in champagne, if I had the cash.

There's an old horse blanket I use for a sheet,

and a Sunday Times keeps the damp off my feet:

there's hardly a shiver when they turn off the heat.

In a shop I know, when I need a drink,

I sidle up slow, but it's not what they think,

I give them a bottle to fill at the sink.

I took the pledge some years ago,

I've got no money and nothing to show

- I've lasted much longer than some I know.

When there were braziers in the street,

I'd braise my hands like barbecue meat,

the builder's tea was strong and sweet.

It's the writing that warms me, best of all,

my work is ubiquitous, my fame is not small,

since most of my best's on the lavatory wall.