“Splott” Oh, a little bit of heaven fell from out the skies one day.
For the angels were spring-cleaning and they let it slip away.
They wondered if they ought to tell St Gabriel, their boss.
But they didn’t really want to ‘cause they knew he would be cross’
So they sprinkled it with coal-dust and let it to Guest Keen.
For they knew their dirty furnaces would make a fine smoke screen.
And when they’d done disguising it—’twas such a dismal plot,
For reasons they could not explain they called their faux-pas SPLOTT
When it came time to stock-taking, St Gabriel found out,
And he called the sneaky angels and began to rave and shout,
How could you be so careless, boys! You know it is not nice
To try to turn into hell a bit a paradise!”
He said we must get cracking, ’twill take ages, you’ll agree,
And the first thing we must do, me boys, is bankrupt B.S.C.”
And when they’d had finished cleaning up, Gabe said - Well that’s the lot.
But we’ll leave the name you gave it, - For Plainly means “GOD’S PLOT!”
By Gene Butcher