Imperial Measures

Imperial Measures 

I always knew there were benefits to Brexit

But so far there’s been very few

Just seems like a lot more paperwork

And passport covers in dark blue

 

But now that we’re pulling free from the EU

And we’ve got our Platinum Jubilee

Looks like a good time to turn the clock back

And declare an Imperial victory

 

Let Johnny Foreigner get on with his metrics

Whilst we hurry back to the old days

Let’s reclaim our British heritage

And get back to our sensible ways

 

Liquids come in pints, quarts and gallons

Money’s in pounds, shillings and pence

Lengths in inches, feet and yards

How can that not make perfect sense?

 

Horse-racing’s often over six furlongs

But 1.2 kilometres wouldn’t be the same

A wicket at cricket is a chain of 22 yards

But at 20 metres it wouldn’t be the same game

 

A mile was always a thousand Roman paces

As their armies marched to defeat us

So the Italians started this daft game

Where’s the logic in sixteen hundred metres?

 

When driving it’s daring to go over the ton

One hundred and six point nine kph has no romance

So getting us to give up MPH ain’t gonna happen

And changing from MPG – no chance

 

Our system certainly had its eccentricities

It’s what made Britain once great

Who else would have sixteen ounces to a pound

And call a hundred and twelve pounds a hundredweight?

 

A gallon’s two hundred and seventy-seven cubic inches

An acre’s 4840 square yards it’s reckoned

A ton’s twenty hundredweights

And horsepower’s 550lbs per foot per second

 

It all seems perfectly clear to me

There’s no need to go taking pills

Nor nipping down to the local

For a foaming glass of 568 mls

 

Anyway, I hope they get all this sorted out soon

This confusion’s making me wonder

It’s only a few years before I’ll be gone

And I’ll be buried 1.83 metres under

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2022