John Thorkild Ellison (17/04/51 / Edinburgh)

Because his day was rather dull
Sid kicked a tramp and broke his skull,
He liked to think that he was tough
And no-one dared to call his bluff
Except that day a guy called Geoff
Declared outright 'You're just a pouf! ! '
That ended in a bloody fight
But he felt really great that night,
He'd punched him hard and cracked his ribs
And put an end to his filthy fibs.
No-one was gonna call him 'gay',
Not if they wanted to walk away!
He quite liked girls but he left his wife
'Cos she always nagged him about his knife,
He'd got her pregnant anyway
And she needn't think he was gonna stay
And listen to some screaming kid
And a wife who hated whatever he did;
He'd got important things to do
Which wouldn't interest a c*nt like you,
(C*nts like you don't have a clue
And always go running to the Boys in Blue!)
One day when he was crossing the road
A car swerved past and left him dead
(He lay there in a pool of blood,
At least that's what the papers said.)
You may think he was a waste of space
But you wouldn't have said that to his face,
He led a life of petty crime
And now he's locked up in this rhyme.