Thursday, 24 November 2011

Don't mind me

Roses are pink and so are probably gay
Dried grasses wave in the wind, yellow as the hay
The sky somewhere in the world is blue
It's time, now, you emerged from the loo.

Leaves are green and it seems blood is red

Though some royals claimed theirs was blue instead
The French tested that theory, the guillotines came down
And the noble heads rolled in the dust of the town.

The blood spurted, a rubicund hue

And the crowds all cheered, right bang on cue -
The stink that came though, nobody'd said
That your sphincters fall open when you're dead.

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