Yellow Wellies

I'm going settle in front of the TV
Cry in the spaces in between
The canned laughter.
I'm probably an extra
In a show that hasn't been made yet -
A clown pushed into A&E on a trolley
Where all you can see
Is the yellow wellies on my feet
As the nurses perform something sweet on me.

Gonna smile in between the moments
Of canned frowning.
It's a bit like the time
I attended that party in the rain
When they buried that guy
In the party hat with the
Propensity to blow those things
That unravel and make a party noise
That I can never remember the name of
And nor can you.

Gonna grimace at the moments
Everyone laughs to be polite in the lull
And they're not supposed to
Like the time you held up that bank
With a stick of celery,
And they called the police
And had you sent down for 20 years -
Caught by the CCTV, and then the police.

Gonna nod knowingly to the misstep
The people are left confused by.
I'm watching sepia-tinged images
Play out before me on my MTV-
I suppose they suppose they're cool.
Well, they're right to think that -
And that's because they are cool.

I'll think about that while I
Stifle a laugh to the part where
The clown's baggy pants come down
and the slapstick comes up.
And everyone else is roaring
As clown wellies sticks his head
In the mouth of a lion
I think we know where this one is going.

I'm going to afford a wry smile in between the spaces of the righteous indignation of the audience of the live TV show
That gets cut with a clown being pushed into A&E
Like that feller on the telly
With a pink marshmallow for a head
Obscured by yellow wellies.