Perfect Day,
(or world domination?)
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So glad to read of your perfect day,
Your aircraft and a sports car with which to play,
With roads that were empty and vapour trail free skies,
It's hard to believe James, that the rumours were just lies.
Tell me,
to achieve such a perfect day as that,
Did you turn up that Icelandic firework's thermostat?
Did you light the blue touch paper, in the land of fire and ice,
Shades of James Bond, a villain, a world dominance device?
When I saw you burn that sausage and admire fields of reflectors,
A mad scientist I thought! - and Heaven please protect us!
The quintessential Englishman,
You will forever be,
An eruption, a drive and an afternoon flight,
But back in time for tea.