Lemon Feet
Your limpet grasp gives me no rest
Nor order, your acetone seal
Nor your polyester vest
We just won't get along, I feel
With me in a tripletty mood
All dressed in a velvetty snood
And you in plodding duple time
At least you have the nous to rhyme
The pelmet is a zone apart
I go there with a heavy heart
Your limpet grasp gives me no rest
Your methanol is wearing
Through the outside of the chest
It makes me feel like swearing
Like swearing in a force-nine gale
I swear and swear to no avail
It doesn't stop it soaking through
Time to hire a cleaning crew
Contributors: | Apsley, Roland, F, Beefy, loaf, (trad), Grayman, Beefless. |
Poem finished: | 27th October 2003 by Anon.. |