The hood of her rain coat is full of her head.
Her head is full of a plan to get thinner.
Her handbag is full of some rhubarb and bread
And a very small dog who is eating his dinner.

The dog is happy with Jenny's new scheme.
He'll get more food when she's eating less.
A handbag with rhubarb has been in his dream,
Along with a wolfhound who lives in Loch Ness.

It's just one of many new schemes she has planned,
Like building a glasshouse with bottles and tins.
The blueprints are there on the back of her hand.
The palm has a drawing of bulletproof bins.

On clear summer nights she looks up at the stars
Through a small telescope, outside her back door.
She pictures herself in a small house on Mars,
Her dog chasing small Martian mice 'round the floor.

When her next-door neighbour sees her he asks
If she's seen a Klingon through her telescope.
She tells him she's seen people wear Klingon masks.
These Klingons were with a man dressed as the Pope.

She's never been sure if his question's a joke.
Is he really weird, his brain badly wired?
Are there no fires in his head he could stoke?
She spoke to the young French au pair that he hired

To feed, bathe and clothe his numerous chickens.
She says that sometimes he wears odd socks for luck.
She dresses the chickens like characters from Dickens.
He talks in Dickensian ways, but they cluck.

Jenny's friend Judith is always in trouble.
She'll go to see Jenny, who'll think of a plan
To help sweep away metaphorical rubble
That often surrounds some unfortunate man.

And even though Jenny's well-meant interventions
Often go wrong and they both have to flee,
And normally involve outside funds and inventions,
They're more entertaining than watching TV.

When Jenny gets home with her dog, who's asleep,
Judith is waiting. She's nearly in tears.
She's stepped into trouble and this time it's deep.
She might have to claim to be German, she fears,

And wear a blond wig, and change her name,
Or hide in her house, spend all day in bed.
Earlier today in a basketball game,
With her tennis racket she hit someone's head.

The man that she hit has a minor concussion.
He plays the cello in a string quartet.
Jokingly she said that she plays percussion.
He heard her but he hasn't got that joke yet.

The quartet are scheduled to play in an hour,
But without a cellist they'll have to pull out.
The glare of the other three made Judith cower.
They said they'll sue her, and she's in no doubt

That they weren't joking. They obviously hate her.
Normally this is when Jenny would say,
"We'll need copper wire and a small detonator."
But sadly for her she can't say it today.

She hears a cello's beautiful rich tone.
She sighs and gives in to the obvious plan.
She goes to her neighbour and asks for a loan
Of his chickens' cellist. He says that she can.

So everything's sorted in just a few minutes,
With no entertainment, no chases till dawn.
For any over-dressed chicken or hen it's
Like any Dickensian day on the lawn.

But she gets to see scenes from Great Expectations
Performed by the chickens. The star is called Bess.
She lacks the real Mrs. Havisham's patience.
She's constantly pecking at her wedding dress.