The bringer of plurabilities
this flinger of plurabilly teas
sang twice upon a time
good time it was two pigeons in a line.
a fat man a-coming downa road
toadja who was a-coming downa road
a nicens-a-little boy named paddy buckoo.
her mother sneak him that story
rather clucked him in deep glory:
series-us-ly sin, sin, O! Jesuitical-sin
nothing quite like it for keeping yous thin
through a grass darkly chat smartly
whatsthat group of slimes and turnips
fat, thin, fat, thin; always melding, erstwhile grimm
in a circus a bonny wee face at t'table i trace
doilies n tea pots n black holes in space
she has a bonny-babymoocowface,
white milk, lemon tea, black knight, big fright, opposite me
she sangalong sweetly sinewed so she'd shine
line by bloody line:
“Oh why is my life in a minor key?
Oh! why do words all-a-mutter to me?
Half a pound of twopenny rice
Half a pounded tree-fell
That’s the way the monkey blows
Plop goes her nerve-cell.”
Had she a goblin’s pretty shoe
Had she taught him what to do? yellow plaits, dumb with fright, came to see her late at night
green-cross handy-codes for all the tippling cosy toads; she sad a wood beneath her fleet oh! she had only her seams to dream on
spread her seams like a sickly mess
be careful of a well-pressed dress.