Rod Hull, why? Why did you always have to be in character.
That night when you went up on that roof to adjust the aerial.

I know what happened, even though there were no witnesses,
i know you scaled that route from the spare bedrooom window
onto the precarious rooftop, wet tiles underfoot and
wind's casting your thin ginger locks to and fro.

So why Rod Hull, why, when there was no-one to see
did you allow that mischievous Emu to go for your throat
in that, oh so loveable, but dangerous way.
There were no laughs to be imbibed from an adoring and caring audience,
there was no comic timing to be portrayed.

And Rod Hull why?, why when you fell and you slid along the tiled slope
to the edge of the rooftop with ever gaining speed and velocity,
why were you too proud and too brave to admit that the Emu was your arm?
Why did you allow yourself to fall?
Why, when you could have used the Emu arm to hold on to the guttering?

You couldn't ruin the illusion, even when your life could be saved.
Your real, false, real, false arm clung bravely to the Emu
The real, Emu neck, real arm, real neck turned
You looked each other in the eye for one last time.

Apologetically.
The two foolish lovers.
Together, alone.

Why Rod Hull?

I dont know, but i know i love you for always being in character. Good night Rod Hull.