I just took a shit in your mouth,
I’ve killed your dad,
I ran him over in my car.
Let’s go for a dance
For a short while-y.
A sodden biscuit topped with breadcrumbs,
Circling an alley of small-printed thumbs.
Your paste is thin as the lips of a grin
From an Ogre made entirely of tin.
Antelope gallop across your face
And your eyes explode all over the place.
You think people care, well here’s a clue:
There’s no one on Earth who’ll be stuck to you like glue.
Oxbridge boys and flowery girls
Will dance about your corpse in twirls.
Your strangeness sews a new kind of name,
A name the same of whose so plain.
Struggle anon, your pace is slowed.
Suck my cock, your legs are bowed.