Ballad

This down-to-earth, honest-to-goodness poetic form is genuinely classical, but quickly starts to sound as though Frank Spencer is reciting it

Johnny takes a lot of cash

And spends it with such speed;

Then famine strikes and everyone

Is desp’rately in need.

He takes a job, a-tending pigs

He longs to eat their pods;

A revelation fills his mind

(The voice he hears is God’s).

I’ll go back home and humbly seek

To join them in employ.

(My father’s men eat well each day

Although mere hoi polloi)

My worthiness to be a son

I know I’ve dissipated,

He’s bound to be most furious –

Reprisals will be stated.

But while he’s still a long way off

His pa – ignoring scandals –

Full gallop! Gives him coat and ring

And kisses and new sandals.

‘Take blades and slit young bovine’s throat

Spit-roast him round and round;

For this my son – we once thought dead

And lost - look, now he’s found!’