Hunt the Bag
You've heard of "Hunt the Thimble"
That dear old party game.
And then there's "Hunt the Slipper"
And others much the same.
You can hunt for foxes- if you're cruel,
Though it's really not PC,
You can hunt wild geese - if you're a fool,
Watch "Bargain Hunt" on TV
But in East Cambs we play "Hunt the Bag"
There is no choice, you see.
Dustbins were made of metal
Used once and used again
When I was a lass in Yorkshire
And dustbin men were Men*
Now the thing is wheelie-bins, they say
For folks on a city street
But we use bin bags, round this way
To keep our rubbish neat.
Yes, in East Cambs we play "Hunt the Bag"
It's really not a treat.
(*Actually they were mostly Men with bad backs.)
We can't dump loads of bin bags
Upon the village scene
We have to limit rubbish
Now that we've all gone green.
East Cambs Council give us - just one bag
That is our weekly ration
But we have to find it - that's a drag
For bin men have a passion
To play their game of "Hide the Bag"
Each in their own strange fashion.
We "Hunt the Bag" each bin day
Is it tied onto the gate?
Is it stuffed behind the drain-pipe?
Looped in a figure-eight?
Is it balled and thrown up - randomly
O'er the garden hedge or wall?
Is it blowing free? Caught in a tree?
Or can't be found at all?
Yes, in East Cambs we play "Hunt the Bag"
It's really not a Ball.
It's less bad in the Summer
In Winter it's no lark
To hunt a balled, black bin bag
That's hidden in the dark.
If it's raining, then the bin bag's wet
And it might be muddy too.
Sometimes it's caught where you just can't get
Though its tatters are in view.
Oh, in East Cambs we play "Hunt the Bag"
I'm sure you do it too.
Why not:
Deliver once a quarter,
A dozen bags or so,
In a roll that's left upon the step?
(As South Cambs did, you know.)
Put the bin bag in the letter box,
If it's not a heinous crime
For a bin man to walk down the path?
(It doesn't take much time.)
For we'd rather not play "Hunt the Bag",
And there I'll end my rhyme.