doug fir could get termites in venice in that time, yes.
now then,
Taurine cloud formations.....
Feed the birds, tuppence a bag...
I've got sixpence, jolly, jolly sixpence
I've got sixpence, to last me all my life
I've got twopence to spend
And twopence to lend
And twopence to send home to my wife, poor wife
No cares have i to grieve me
No pretty little girls to deceive me
I'm happy as a king, believe me
As we go rolling, rolling on . . .
Sitting on a park bench --
eyeing ittle girls with bad intent.
Snot running down his nose --
greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes.
Drying in the cold sun --
Watching as the frilly panties run.
Feeling like a dead duck --
spitting out pieces of his broken luck.
Sun streaking cold --
an old man wandering lonely.
Taking time
the only way he knows.
Leg hurting bad,
as he bends to pick a dog-end --
he goes down to the bog
and warms his feet.
dee, dee, dee, dee,
dee, dee, dee, dee,
dee, dee, dee.
The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick Maker
