Someone's give us metrication,
Someone's nicked our Mile!
We had the thing six 'undred years.
It is a deed most vile.
Someone's been and took our Yard,
And called the thing a Metre.
They took away our British Pint
And give us back a Litre.
What become of Rod and Perch,
Of Furling, Pole and Chain?
Some rotten European swine
Has hidden 'em again.
They've had away our Pound and Ounce,
The Stone, the Dram and all,
And give us 'orrid little grams.
Of all the flamin' gaul!


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