Sultans of the Ottoman
Men of Timbuctoo,
Lotharios all over
But none could love like you.
Your horse no longer has legs, your body has lost its head.
The excitement of the chase, the take,
Is what thrills you.
A note to the flamingo, that lives at the top of the stairs-
Will you come down and join us?
It's been three months now!
I know you Miss Flamingo, your feathers bright and true,
I am evaluating myself
What an equation to solve!
Looking algebraically at my reflection
Fat drops roll down my cheeks, they grieve
The part of me I gave to you,
The inconceivable part, that nobody ever gets a hold of.
There are many a thing, about being a lad,
That I remember still to this day.
But 'ave good manners, they cost you nothing,
Is what me ole grandpa would say.
I see them up in the air,
Their noses point towards you.
You are above, amongst the giants,
I see you Sirius. I see you Ursa, your tail is poised.
I can think of none such awful time,
Than this ordeal filled with strife
I may even take my life,
At the thought of losing you.
My mother loved nothing more,
Than to quaff, Champagne galore.
What was her favourite? It slips my mind,
So many bottles, not enough time!