Happy Happy

It was a restaurant, chicken rice and char siu pork,
more than heaven, there was not much need to talk;
locals plied their wares, westerners given few stares,
much better over 'there,' here novelty, no one really cares.

Nelson the taxi driver didn't know what 'bolllocks' meant,
rubbish or testicles, didn't mind, he was just a nice gent;
I was 'brown,' could have been from nearly anywhere,
not like school - in those days they would call me 'Ter.'

Strange to be delineated by colour, brown or red indian,
they give me any crap - I'm not going there ever again;
some of my best friends are bastards, the way of life,
I don't want to know you, just give me trouble and strife.

Rudyard Kipling said: 'To be born a white englishman was
to win one of the great lotteries in life,' I had a Malaysian wife.