You've rung the Continental offices of No-one's Ever Here;
Please leave your name and number and then kindly disappear,
For our laws' writ rules king and twit in east, west, south and northward,
and fosters strife in modern life;
Nothing is straight forward.
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No doubt you know our other show, called Nothing Ever Fits,
who in their turn, as all soon learn, sell incomplete spares kits,
That lack the one important part to re-start car or tractor,
And at which stage, cause further rage, when we insert this factor;
That all shall be discovered only once the shops have closed,
So nothing ever, ever, ends as cheaply as supposed.
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An allied gang that makes a bang is
Not At This Address,
Who trades as 'We've moved Premises', but where and when's a guess;
For, though they've gone to Koinange Street, you're really none the wiser,
You think they're in Parliament road?
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This mib will kill you; sound familiar?
They're Out At A Meeting.
Elusive, they're conducive to a lot of overheating.
They won't come back till you've jacked up, and on your homeward trip;
As you leave town, they getbeamed diwn, in pairs, from mother ship.
Our Never Any Dunnies Group works on privat fears,
So by the time you've read this,
stuff is pouring out your ears.