Rsvp

(intro ) On the bleakest day autumn could muster In a church to which they'll not return I thought back to a time when I could trust her To a time when there wasn't John Byrne. And in a cruel twist of fate which so often Occurs in tales such as this I found myself catering reception And there were urges I had to resist. Not least 'cos John Byrne is much fitter And the straightener to him holds no fears So if the chocolate in the fountain tastes bitter (as intro) It's because it's been laced with my tears. Celebrations were well underway when Her father prayed silence and spoke He said "It's not like I'm losing a daughter as..." (Violently starting to choke). And in a gesture which said "I'm fast fading Could somebody dial 999?" He valiantly toasted my capers With a glass of what he thought was wine. It was gone half past ten before folk cottoned on (instr) By which time I'd landed in Wick. So if what's in the fondue's to die for It's got nothing to do with the cheese And if what's in the punchbowl seems lethal It's because it's two-thirds anti-freeze.