Hugh will play an old guitar
In city streets or in a bar.
He sings his songs about James Dean
(The name he gave to his last bean)

And cricket bats who talk in Dutch,
Conversing with a wooden crutch,
And aliens who look like ducks,
Instead of quacks they talk in clucks.

His favourite song relates the tale
Of searching for the holy grail
With his friend, a man called Jones
Who's always talking to his bones,

Warning them against escape,
Eloping underneath a cape
With a female skeleton
He met while in the peloton

Of a bike race all round France
For skeletons who don't need pants.
The winners won't get many hugs
But people know they don't use drugs.

Hugh and Jones set off to claim
The holy grail and save a dame.
They just assumed they'd somehow find
A damsel in a tricky bind.

With wooden swords and plastic spoons
They showed no fear to thugs or goons.
Jones had bought an ancient map
From a most peculiar chap

Who wore his trousers inside out
To tempt and yet instil some doubt
In people prone to picking pockets.
Some will leave receipts or dockets.

His bulging pockets catch their eyes.
To reach the pot of gold they prize
They'd have to put a hand inside
His cardboard belt. No one's tried.

He never fears the thieves in hoods,
But sometimes when he's buying goods
He has to feel around to find
His coins and when he's feeling kind

He'll leave a tip and get a smile.
Shop assistants like his style.
But when he takes the wrong thing out
They stare in shock and scream and shout.

His back pocket held the map.
Jones kept it beneath his cap
After paying twenty quid.
Twenty-five was his first bid.

On the map a red line showed
The only route, the sacred road
To follow if you seek the grail.
It starts at 'Go' and goes through 'Jail'.

They walked past many red hotels.
The walls concealed eternal hells.
The names in flashing neon light
Promised heaven every night.

Should customers decide to stay
And reach inside their pants to pay,
If it looks like they enjoy it
They may well be compelled to buy it.

For this they'd face an extra fee.
Nothing ever comes for free.
As night time came around once more
Hugh and Jones felt tired and sore.

They found a place to rest their heads.
It lacked a light bulb, chair and beds.
It had a hole, an eerie sound
And mattresses upon the ground.

Through the sheets they saw the springs
And odd shapes classified as 'things'.
Ignore them when they start to creep.
Just hope they die or fall asleep.

Hugh woke up at half past three
When Jones's bones were trying to flee.
The skeleton was nearly at
The door when he put on a hat.

Hugh picked up a sword and said,
"I think you should return to bed."
The skeleton halted in mid-stride.
He paused a while. It seemed he sighed.

He put the hat back on the ground,
And with a sombre rattling sound
He trudged towards the mattress where
Jones was sleeping unaware

He'd lost his inner scaffolding.
His skeleton's sad laugh will ring
In dreams of doing magic tricks
Like pulling rabbits out of bricks.

Their breakfast seemed to brim with life.
The hotel staff brought further strife.
The waiter stared when Jonsie said
That he preferred his breakfast dead.

Hugh and Jones were chased away.
Later on this summer day
The map led them down country lanes
Where sights and sounds massaged their brains.

If they were cats they'd smell the cream.
They found a field beside a stream.
They thought the grail was underneath
The grassy ground beneath their feet.

They dug for hours but sadly failed
To be enriched, enhanced, engrailed.
All they found were coins and bones.
They looked for signs in rocks and stones.

They listened to their feathered friends.
They even lifted up the ends
Of all the rainbows that they found,
But all they saw was gold and ground.

They met a woman dressed in white
Who told them all about her plight.
Her dog had chased a cat away.
She hadn't seen him since midday.

Hugh and Jones said they would help.
Jones could hear a bark or yelp
From a dog three miles away,
And translate what they're trying to say.

He listened very carefully
He heard a poodle bark a plea
To be allowed to roll around
In a pig sty's muddy ground.

Amongst the sounds of bees and birds
He heard a dog bark out these words:
"I thought we'd meet and have a chat.
I will not kill you, Mister Cat."

By then the dog was nearly hoarse.
They walked towards the barking's source.
A mile away they found the dog
Beneath a tree beside a bog.

Each high-pitched bark would need a bleep.
That vexing cat was now asleep.
But when he saw his owner he
Wagged his tail and barked in glee.

And she was clearly overjoyed.
When her tears of joy had dried
She asked them if they'd like some food
And wine to light the evening mood.

She took them to her house and made
A meal for which they would have paid
A pot of gold to get in places
Patronised by famous faces.

They felt at last they'd found their prize.
An inner glow lit up their eyes.
The grail had followed them by stealth
And caught them in the peace they felt.

They'd helped a damsel fight distress,
Clearing up her doggie's mess.
Hugh insists that all this happened,
Though he accepts that it's a crap End.