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Roast Parrot For Grouville school, on the edge of the sea.

Before he married mum

Before he thought of me,

My father was a pirate

Who terrorised the sea.

He says he was a sailor,

But we all know he’s lying.

There’s a pirate ship inked on his arm

With skull and crossbones flying.

Sometimes he cooks roast beef,

With spuds and sprouts and carrots.

He eats it up, but always says,

‘I much prefer roast parrots.’