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

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