Rash Wednesday On The Grim Reeperbahn
Give me a whirl on the trampoline dull
Before the elastic's replaced
My mind is a-whir though my body's in Hull
And my tongue is devoid of all taste
I've learnt how to sing with a flute up my nose
I've mastered the art of despair
I'm telling the world in impeccable prose
How highlights got lost in my hair
Give me a whirl and I'll tell no more lies
Concerning my Cactus Career;
I'll even retract what I said about thighs
- You intimidate so with your sneer!
I've learnt how to fly with a fan on my head
I've mastered the Tuning of Chance
I'm uttering words that should never be said
In such cases: "Go into your dance"!
Give me a whirl of a kind that is rare
I promise I'll never divulge
All the secrets I learnt at The Mystical Fair
Or the weakness I over-indulge.
I've learnt that the Sultan is not what he seems
I've mastered the Spinning of Yarns
I've ordered the book that I wrote in my dreams
The one about badgers and barns.
Give me a whirl and I'll sell you my soul
(I won't tell you it's cracked in two places)
I'll give you my daily telegraph pole
And also my two belts and braces
I've learnt how to walk with no feet on the ground
I've mastered the Downing of Heels
I'm coming to terms with the Earth's being round
But what is the need, then, for wheels?
Give me a whirl as the curtain comes down
Or I'll beat on your head with a spoon;
I'll buckle the toast-rack to serve as your crown
The kind worn by the Lairds of Dunoon
I've learnt that there's only a day or two left
I've mastered the Hanging of Fire
I've vowed that I'll never be tried for the theft
Of the key to the Heavenly Choir
Contributors: | The Agent Apsley, Roland, TG, Jane, P, E Greejius, Grayman, KT, fester. |
Poem finished: | 27th February 2000. |