There’s a crash at the end of the street

Piercing in the summer heat

Stopping you dead on your feet

The screaming is hardly discrete

The van hit a wall you see

Then bounced back into a tree

Where old Tom sat with a cup of tea

He’s dead, between you and me

His poor wife had popped to the loo

Luckily, or she’d be dead too

Such a tragic event, that much is true

All in a golden afternoon, under the skies of cloudless blue