Genius Son

When I was a younger woman
 (Some might say too young..)
 I gave birth to a baby boy
 A Genius son
  
 In his pushchair down the shops
 People thought it strange
 How he’d add the costs of all my goods
 And calculate the change
  
 After school I’d take him
 (once he’d breezed through all the tests)
 To the Turkish caff in Dalston
 Where he’d beat them all at chess
  
 Don’t get me wrong – he loved his toys
 And other childish things
 But after tea he’d want to sit
 And read Lord Of The Rings
  
 Now I look at his certificate
 And ask myself again,
 “Where on God’s Green Earth
 Did he get that Mighty Brain?”
  
 ‘Cos though I’m not a total dunce
 I have to work at it
 It cannot be hereditary –
 His Dad was thick as shit
  
 He’s grown into a handsome chap
 East End through and through
 As charming as you like
 With a very high IQ