Phoebe Married The Warmonger
Smell my squirty button-hole
It reeks of rancid butter
I must admit, it's getting old
The shame of it is utter
The hang-dog look of stale lapels
Will send us to the Pole
To dance among the fishy smells
That come from my South hole
So smell my squirty button-hole
Smell my squirty button-hole
But my squirty smelly-hole
Leave that well alone!
Contributors: | Roland, Kansas Sam, loaf, N, Apsley, Padfoot, Beefy, Ethetran. |
Poem finished: | 22nd January 2004 by Anon.. |