Heggers plays pop

I went to see John Hegley
With a couple of my mates
John had one of his on stage,
A sort of Norman Bates
(Of the type inclined to violence only when directed against black rubber gloves and/or his own head)
He read some poems that I knew
And some that I did not
And of the latter ones there were
Quite a lot
Afterwards he signed the books
That I had brought along
I should’ve bought some new ones
I didn’t
Which was probably wrong
But I’m used to making such social gaffes
And the queues for writer and written were so long
That if I’d waited at the till first then I might have missed him second
John Hegley, John Hegley
Off the walley and off the pegley
John Hegley, John Hegley
Poking your funley and pulling your legley
Hegley John, Hegley John
He was here and now he’s gone
Hegley John, Hegley John
With his glasses on