When I was five I definitely wanted to be bigger. At only six inches tall I was always being walked on, and you know even now age 71 and 5ft 10ins it’s still the same.
I wanted to be a bin man (Not a man in a bin) when I grew up, that was probably the only thing my school results would have got me, but I was lucky I was spotted as having a talent, so no bins for me.
Here’s a story about how the UK is being invaded by bins.

LITTLE TIN BIN.

Little tin bin, lived at the top of our drive
Then one day I woke up, to find big black plastic bin arrived
I Cleared a space in the shrubs for black plastic bin to live
We lived happily for a while all our rubbish to him we would give

Then we were told a second bin we’d very soon have
A brown bin soon appeared I found some room upon our path
Tins, bottles and most things plastic to go in that brown bin
Nothing else could go in there, that would be a sin

A few years later a blue bin appeared I thought the bins had bred
In that bin we should put things of paper card and all things read
Space was getting short hard to get car in garage
Still I was glad of blue bin to put leaflets from Farage

Each day I would move blue bin to get out my little car
Then we were told of another bin the most ridiculous by far
In this one all waste food to go, except for meat and eggs
Wheeling all these bins up and down the drive was wearing out my legs

“Blue bin isn’t big enough, you’ll have to have one bigger”
This was getting ridiculous, it was beginning to pull my trigger
Then we got a box for meat to attract all vermin cats and rats
I thought about asking for one on the wall to attract some roosting bats

Next will be a yellow bin for what can’t go in the others
Our DIY shop doing a roaring trade selling all the bin house numbers
I’d been told it did no harm, to put garden waste in the woods next door
But then one day, there it was, green bin sitting on the floor

I had to make more room for bins, so I sold our camper van
Then I was told six more bins due by our local council man
Now there are only two of us live in little house
But in the garden there exists, six foxes, twenty rats a hyena and a mouse.

The sky is full of vultures, I don’t mean politicians
To get rid of the rats I can’t afford to pay Hamelin musicians
So please stop the bins, I just can’t take it any more
I certainly can’t afford to pay the fines because I can’t remember what they’re for

When I come home from work I can usually identify our dwelling
But now the bins are stacked ten deep, the difference I can’t be telling
So I drive round and round through valleys of multi coloured bins
It’s hard to tell where one street ends and another one begins.

All words Meadowhead Bard.