There’s a gal you may remember and her name was Janie Paull
If you look her up on Google now, that’s not her name at all;
But have a go at Googling, and yes, would you believe
You’ll find her there, with greying hair, under the name of Grieve.

For forty years she’s bungled on all full of g0od intent
She’s been Jane Grieve for 20 years God knows where Jane Paull went
It was a case of misspent youth it was a case of need
It was a case of rushing in and trying every deed.

An early exit from the hallowed halls of our old Negs
Meant she repented at her leisure on her aching legs
As manual tasks and menial work replaced her lofty goals
She blundered on both hither and yon in a bid to save her soul.

From typist in a typing pool to Hall of Fame’s Exec
She did her best to save her face she didn’t give a heck
She donned the swag and sucked a fag and went to see the world
She tried some dope but couldn’t cope she was such a wholesome girl.

Eventually she came to see that children were the go
She left it late – just made it, mate – ye gads that girl was slow!
She put a legrope on a bloke, a poor old hapless chap
He sired her kids, Sam Lou & Jock, what a feather in her cap!

And now she says it’s writing that is going to pay the bills
She writes of life in all its glory and its thrills & spills
She writes of things she shoulda done and things she hopes to find
And pets & kids that touched her life – and you, if you don’t mind.

But really now, and seriously, before this drives you mad
Perchance you really want to know the kind of life Jane’s had
You could boot up your Apple Mac, or even your Dell would do
And search her out through Google, on

(with apologies to husband Robert whose name did not fit the cadence)