I met an alien there, in that old garden shed.
I asked him to explain, and this is what he said:
"My parents came from Mars in 1993,
They came to live in Slough and that's where they had me.

Their names are Ponk and Dink. On Mars that was the norm.
But these names cause a problem, filling in a form.
So life is very hard. Social Security
Will not accept their claims and nothing comes for free.

Behind 9 Beechnut Drive they found this garden shed
And that is where we've lived. Oh! what a life we've led.
We nearly froze to death. On Mars it's very hot.
The first thing that they learned: down here of course it's not.

They both when I was born were pleased as pleased could be.
My name? They called me Alf. Alf the Alien, see?
When told to go to school, reluctant to be seen
I hid behind the bin. A hard life when you're green

With pointed ears that flap and one big yellow eye,
My nose this little snout - it must be why I'm shy.
The teachers at the school have never noticed me -
Too busy sorting out ethnic minority.

I didn't seem so odd in such a motley lot,
But no one had the mixed-up features that I've got.
The fact that I'm ignored is no surprise at all:
One inch at my widest and less than one foot tall.

I'd like to go to Mars. It's not much fun down here,
But when I asked my dad, Alf, he said, no fear!
We need the transport, see? To get us off the ground.
A space-ship would be nice but there's not one around.

So here I guess I'll stay until I'm very old
In your dark garden shed, in England, in the cold."
I promised not to tell. It didn't seem quite fair
To risk it when I knew the world would come to stare.

I'd made a friend of Alf while he was living there,
But then they disappeared, their home deserted, bare.
That space-ship, did it come, transporting them away?
In hope I search the shed: they may come back one day.