WILLIE WRIGHT

Willie Wright could not write, so he invented a machine which Wright called the Wright Writer

But the Wright Writer could not write right

So Wright had to find someone to make the writer right.

‘O Willie write, right away or won’t he’

 

He twittered north, he facebooked south, he googled east and west

Almanacs, yellow pages, encyclopedias, which magazines, women’s owns, he put them to the test.

He faxed wise men, phoned many friends and tried with all his might

But he couldn’t find anyone to make the writer right.

‘O right is the writer that writes!’

 

Till his doorbell rang one Monday morn, the sun was shining bright

A strange man stood there and politely asked ‘Would you be Wright?’

‘I am indeed and who are you and what takes you to my door?’

‘I’ve come to make your writer write, of that I’m certain sure!’

‘You must think I’m silly’ says Willie

 

‘In case you’re interested, the name’s Professor Albert Wrong

And to rightify your write machine is why I’ve come along.

To make it right is simple, I’ll just find out what’s wrong’

‘You’re Wrong’ says Wright, ‘I knew it all along

and you say you’ll fix my write machine,’

 ‘That’s right’ says Wrong. ‘All right, says Wright.

 

Says Wright, ‘The locals always tell me that the Wright name’s very odd

But I’ve never heard the Wrong name in this part of the sod

Are you German, French or Ulster Scots or maybe from Hong Kong’

‘I come from County Cavan from a place called Drumalong’.

‘Drumalong’ says Wrong.  ‘Aye  Runalong’ says Wright. 

 

‘Me mother’s name was Strong and me granny’s name was Long

I’ve aunties Long and uncles Strong and many cousins Wrong

We meet up every Sunday to everyone’s delight

We drink Strong ales and tell Long tales till the middle of the night’

‘All night’ says Wrong.  ‘All wrong’ says Wright

 

 

 

 

‘I always seem to rise at the Wrong time every day

And into work I travel in the Wrong car, the Wrong way’

‘Have you got that job done Wrong my workmates ask with glee

And is it true that your dog keeps barking right up the right Wrong tree?’

‘That’s Wrong’ says Wright. ‘Right again’ says Wrong

 

Says Wrong, ‘You see, my name is sullied in every human indiscretion

I’ve been abused and bullied because of the recession

It’s me that robbed the Northern Bank and set the place on fire

I’m the Wrong manager with the Wrong tactics when we lose the Sam Maguire’.

‘I suppose that’s right’ says Wright.  ‘Too right indeed’ says Wrong.

 

I was once a famous bell ringer when Big Ben refused to chime

And London town imploded because nobody could tell the time

I spent two weeks at least wrestling with that dammed gong

Till the Lord Mayor tried to shoot me for I rung the wrong bell wrong

‘Rung wrong’, says Wright ‘Wrong rung’ says Wrong.

 

Imagine the uproar when I used to go to a dance

The girls would always tease me in every circumstance

‘A come on outside they’d beg me and teach me something Wrong’

But when I’d say ‘Yes’ they’d run away and get lost in the throng.

‘A right throng’ says Wright, ‘Wrong throng’ says Wrong

 

 

And on a Saturday night to the Wrong pub I’d go along

And at closing time someone would shout, ‘It’s Wrong to sing a song’

You owe me for the last three rounds the barman he would wreck.

But the bank won’t give me any cash, I’ve the Wrong name on the cheque.

‘Wrong bank’ says Wright.  ‘A right bank’ says Wrong.

 

I’d wobble home from left to right and from right to left again

And somehow I’d always find myself right up the right Wrong lane

And when I’d stagger up the stairs it was always great to see

The Wrong wife lying in the bed where Wrong he longed to be.

‘Right Mrs Wrong’ says Wright, ‘Wrong Mrs Wrong’ says Wrong.

 

So you think that you have problems my dearest Mr Wright

I’d swap you mine for yours any morning, noon or night

It’s the wrong size, wrong colour, wrong answer, wrong train

I don’t know what is wrong with me I’ve got wrong upon the brain.

‘Wrong brain’ says Wright ‘Right brain’ says Wrong

 

 

 

‘Houl on says Wright, ‘You must think that I am green

How in under heavens could you fix my Write machine?’

Say Wrong, ‘The answer’s very simple and I’m going to be polite

Your machine is wrong and I am Wrong so two wrongs will make a right.

‘Two Wrongs’ says Wright ‘One right’ says Wrong.

 

 

 

Your crankshaft it is banjaxed and your piston not just right

Your ribbon spool and wheel are tightened up too tight

Your axle needs lubrication and your feeder is far too long

And that explains the reason why your write writer is all wrong

‘A heap of scrap’ says Wright ‘You’re talking right’ says Wrong

 

 

‘Now you houl on’ says Wrong ‘and listen to common sense’

The reason why you cannot write is not because you’re dense

It could be psychological, biological, codolgical or you hold the pen too tight

Throw away that dammed machine and I’ll teach you how to write

‘How to write’ says Willie ‘If it takes all night’ says Wrong

 

After hours and hours of coaching Wrong blinked and fell into a doze

And Wright he nodded off as well as he ached from head to toes

And at daylight as proud as punch Wright produced his page with glee

And clearly written were the letters WRONG

‘That’s Wrong’ says Wright ‘Right on’ says Wrong

 

‘Well this is great’ says Wright, ‘I am able to write wrong’

‘You’ll have to show me to write Wright, I know it won’t take long’

In this world of rights we need the wrongs or else we’ll all go silly

‘So long’ says Wright ‘Stay right’ says Wrong ‘I will indeed’ says Willie

‘Good night’, from Wright, ‘Sleep long’ from Wrong

JOAN ROONEY