Loyalty
When approaching the checkout at Morrisons
There’s an anxiety that grips me
It’s not, I confess, whether I have “Five items or less”
Nor the grammatical skewer
To know whether it should be “Five items or fewer”
No, it’s deeper form of worry, that causes the sudden
flurry
Of bone-chilling angst and anxiety
You see shopping in Waitrose
Doesn’t get up your nose
That’s how it goes
And, if I may be so bold,
That’s what you’re told, so you’re exit is usually bold
When you’re Never Knowingly Undersold
And at Asda and Aldi’s there’s no fiddle
Nor attempt to diddle, when you’re shopping at Lidl
Even Sainsbury’s no riddle
But back here at the Morrison’s conveyor
I’m stopped from being much gayer
I’m a dithering, nervous payer
With my Match N’ More loyalty card
My enjoyment is marred
I’m quite on my guard, the calculation’s too hard
I feel uncertainty in my joints
Perspiration my face anoints, as I calculate my points
Hoping the till will correctly count
Special offers, as the totals gradually mount
Towards my overall discount
I need my bargains - I’m no toff
I’m forced to a cough, if I don’t get my BOGOF
When I pay my bill, waiting there at the till
It’s not my intention
To cause the queue a detention
But I just thought that I’d mention
This disquiet, this tension
That it might have been cheaper at Tesco
Perhaps I should change, switch where I go
For as any fool know
Every Little Helps
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