Onions Can't Cry
So often I've heard it been said
It protrudes from my ears
And leaves me in tears
I'd rather be bald instead
There's oomph in my get-up-and-go
I'm speeding through life like a pro
I simply can't stop
Till I get to the top
At which point I'll toss to and fro
My nose is remarkably long
Almost as long as my schlong
And each time I sneeze
I fall to my knees
It's worse than a game of mah-jong
I suffer from awful diseases
Emitting pus and wheezes
My elbows are green
I've lost my spleen
And often believe that I'm Jesus
I think I might be Joan of Arc
We look just alike - in the dark
I, too, hear voices
My army rejoices
Oh-oh, what is that? A spark?
They're having a party tonight
An orgy--do you think it's right?
I should be invited
My lust is ignited
My manhood has schwinged to its height
My bladder is getting quite weak
I'm in desperate need of a leak
If I weren't so drunk
That cave I'd spelunk
And give the bats a free peek.
I wish I were free of my mess
Falling apart I must confess
I just want some friends
Not one who pretends
To know me ... but now I digress
Contributors: | N, F, sorry, Beefy, Dassn't Say, fester, Kansas Sam, Karin, sp, chicho, Kansas Sam (from Innes), Roland. |
Poem finished: | 28th August 2003. |