Z/Yen Seasonal Event, The Bottlescrue, 11 December 2015

Feature image borrowed from AllInLondon.co.uk

The Bottlescrue is no longer there, he says, writing eight years later. It is now a health club. Go figure.

A bittersweet occasion, was the Z/Yen seasonal event in 2015, as it doubled as Mary O’Callaghan’s leaving do and also coincided with my so-called semi-retirement, which was the cause of some consternation in Z/Yen at that time.

Still, we of course ate and drank and made merry. Secret Santa did his thing and some Z/Yen gimcrack no doubt did the rounds too.

I found a way of combining the seasonal lyric with the topic of Mary’s departure, which resulted in this rather charming number, thought I say so myself:

MARY’S BOLD JOB
( A Calypso sung to the tune of “Mary’s Boy Child” )

VERSE ONE
Long time ago in London Town, in a place named St Helen,
Mary joined a little firm; that firm was known as Z/Yen.
Hark now hear the Z/Yen folk sing, the notes, some right, some wrong;
But Z/Yen will try forever more, to sing a Christmas song.

VERSE TWO
Now Mary worked long and worked hard, she was no trouble in any way,
Except when Linda had to calc-ulate her statutory maternity pay;
Hark now hear the Z/Yen folk sing, the notes, some right, some wrong,
But Z/Yen will try forever more, to sing a Christmas song.

VERSE THREE
Then Z/Yen removed to Basinghall, the Ward of Cheap was full of pleasures,
But Mary found she had to learn, about some mutually distributed ledgers;
Hark now hear the Z/Yen folk sing, the notes, some right, some wrong,
But Z/Yen will try forever more, to sing a Christmas song.

VERSE FOUR
When Mary handed in her cards, the festive season was in full swing,
So every venue Mary chose, said “there’s no room at the inn”.
(Shout out: Except for this place!!)
Hark now hear the Z/Yen folk sing, the notes, some right, some wrong,
But Z/Yen will try forever more, to sing a Christmas song.

OUTRO
Hark now hear the Z/Yen folk sing, the noise can be quite scary,
But Z/Yen will sing forever more, the praises of our dear Mary.

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