Snooker’s a fellow
Daily Record, Tuesday 05 July 1932
Snooker's a fellow
Who sits in a chair
In my bedroom every night.
He never gets there
Whilst I’m going to bed
But waits till there isn’t a light!
Then just as I’m dozing,
The littlest creak
Sounds suddenly in the room
And later a squeak
Makes me open my eyes
And peer about through the gloom.
I don’t think I’m really—
Not really afraid—
But I wish old Snooker would go.
It’s more than a shade Impolite to disturb
My sleep in this manner, you know!
He won’t even answer
Any questions of mine—
Like, f’instance. "Who is there?"
But after a time
He will wake me again
With a creak as he moves to the stair.
I’m hoping that Snooker
Very noon will decide
That the chair is an ancomfy bed.
Then p’r’aps he will glide
Through the wall next door
And disturb Jackie Green instead!