Since rhyming and rhythm are terribly boring
They must now be barred from all musical scoring;
Those poets employing these rhythms and rhymes
Should pay with their lives for committing such crimes!
Six weeks old today mamma
a birthday gift for me,
a pair of big brown eyes through
one day i will see.
The handbag is a rare delight, it's like Aladdin's cave,
All sorts of things are hidden there, that females like to save,
It's black and big and heavy, with a nice long shoulder strap,
Its weighted down with odds and sods and other stuff like that.
I was walking down the river bank it was just the other night
When a vampire with a fishing rod gave me a real bad fright
'I haven't had a bite all day' it said and bared its drooling fangs
'A pint or two of your cool blood will cure my hunger pangs'
Starkle starkle little twink
who the heck you are I think
I'm not under what you call
the alcofluence of incohol
Sorrow swalowed me into the cruel black sea,
The icy cold water washed over me,
She looks like a hooker, regular tart,
Owes her face less to nature than cosmetic art.
'Prostitute' or 'loose woman' are terms that might irk her,
So in sanitized speech she's now called a sex worker.
Eye halve a spelling chequer
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.
Ding dong the witch is dead
The wicked witch is dead.
Somebody filled her brains with lead
and now the wicked witch is dead.