a poem for amelia about waiting for a visa to qatar

tentatively titled: I'm going to get quite fat if this keeps up...

i'm waiting to hear about visas
in the meantime i'm eating two pizzas
if this takes any longer
i'll look down and ponder
if my waistline can handle some cheese-uhs.

i'm waiting to hear about visas
it's been two months, three days, and a seizure
i'm going quite batty
i think i'll get a new tatty
what else do you do when you're waiting a few and you're quickly
approaching a geezer?

i'm waiting to hear about visas
london's the inside of a freezer
it's cold and it's damp
and i feel like a tramp
and i wish i was heading to tropical bedding and summertime weather at
the drop of a feather instead of here waiting and feeling like hating
the government being a teaser.