[Verse 1 - bouncy acoustic guitar, snappy 2-step garage beat] The Euromillions jackpot, a cool ten million quid, That’s precisely what our Deputy Mayor Peter finally did. He had Lewis down in I.T. cross-examine the display, Then he rolled into the chamber screaming, "Pack your bags, hooray!" He told Mayor Mike Barbery, "We’re sailing on a yacht, A five-star luxury excursion, I have subsidised the lot." But before they reached the exit of the civic parking space, Peter’s battery imploded, blowing fuses in his face. [Chorus - upbeat garage-folk fusion, driving upright bass] So it’s back upon the shoulders of the Bodmin Beast of Burden, With a multi-millionaire who keeps on eloquently wordin'. (Giddy up, Michael!) We are heading to the docks! (Keep it moving!) Through the potholes and the rocks! [Verse 2 - rapid virtuoso flow, deeply syncopated and swung] The logistical gymnastics were extraordinarily bleak, As they piggybacked to Hampshire taking practically a week. Michael's cartilage was crumbling, his patellas were ablaze, Through a labyrinth of roundabouts and dual-carriageway maze. Peter hollered from the summit of the mayoral physique, "Keep your posture elevated, Mike, your lumbar's looking weak! Think of caviar and cocktails on the Mediterranean sea, It’s a philanthropic gesture of the highest pedigree!" [Chorus 2 - added tambourine, slightly evolved, escalating tempo] So it’s back upon the shoulders of the Bodmin Beast of Burden, With a millionaire insisting that his navigation's certain. (Mush on, Michael!) Just a little further east! (Don't complain!) I am the beauty, you're the beast! [Bridge - sparse instrumentation, tense rhythmic build] They stumbled to Southampton, Michael wheezing like a pug, Sweating absolute buckets on the terminal rug. Peter handed him a garment made of polyester blend, Saying, "Welcome to the vessel, my municipal best friend." [Verse 3 - beat drops out to a solitary acoustic pluck, then erupts into frantic fast rap] Mike inspected the apparel, saw a tiny frilly skirt, And a badge that stated 'Waitress' pinned precisely to the shirt. "You haven't bought a ticket?! I'm dispensing the hors d'oeuvres?!" Peter chuckled, "Well, it’s character-building for your nerves!" [Beat drop - heavy garage bassline hits, aggressive swung flow] Michael’s epidermis shifted to a beetroot shade of red, Capillaries were erupting in his palpitating head. A tectonic palpitation shook his blazer to the seams, As his vocal cords unleashed a set of banshee-level screams. His temperature ascended, reaching boiling point degrees, A high-pitched kettle whistle shooting outward from his ears! He was trembling and vibrating like a faulty washing machine, The most apoplectic Mayor that the county's ever seen! [Outro - slowing down, single acoustic strum] Pete sailed off to Monaco to sip a fine Merlot, While Michael served the canapés upon the deck below. (Sparkling or still, madam?) [End]
