The Ballad of Daytime TV (Here Come the Hearse Chasers)

The ballad of Daytime TV (Here Come the Hearse Chasers)

Former coppers, all

Sweaty in Vauxhalls and Fords

Fourth cousins twice removed

Answering doors

Warned by researchers

To look sorry and shocked

For folk never heard of

Until the hearse chaser's knock

An inheritance? How much? Where do I sign?

And I watch and I wish that the money was mine

So I could roam car boot sales,

Sifting through trash

Searching for treasures

To flog at auction for cash

I know my Royal Doulton, my Wemyss Ware and Delft

My Faberge, Wedgewood, but there's so little left

In charity shops, or in skips or in attics

Everybody's an expert, everybody's an addict

Of Bargain Hunt, Put Your Money Where Your Mouth is

And then there's the question of investing in houses...

Who are these people, with money to spend

In hundreds of thousands, or do banks still lend

To tattooed guys in fleeces with half-shaven heads

Who buy sad repossessions and the homes of the dead

Tart them up, sell them on, or just rent them out

It's all about profit, not a scintilla of doubt

Ever appears on a presenter's face

As they Escape to the Country

To avoid the disgrace

Of every being reduced to

Price Drop TV

The Jewellery Channel

Or QVC

Where faded celebrities go

Just to keep being in vision

Before finally graduating

To become politicians.

Copyright Tom Morton 2013. All rights reserved.