The Fortune Teller I dropped my bike on the dusty pavement And looked at the ramshackle caravan I bit my lip and cautiously walked to the door There I was met by a woman She was a typical fortune-teller alright Scarves, bangles and jewellery galore A withered face with layers of make-up She made me feel nervous so I looked at the floor The lady barked, "What do you want?" I stammered "I want my fortune read." I put my hands in my grubby jeans. She rolled her eyes to heaven "Sorry, I only serve over eighteens."