Predicated Upon Juvenile Ignorance
The bishop, in his water-wig
Went swimming with old Porky Pig
Exposed to public view
He knew not what to do
But thrilled all the attendant throng
With lines from this unnerving song:
Oh, riddle me once and twiddle me twice
Three times four and a mutton slice
Beethoven's fifth, and a mixth of ice
In congress with an Edelweiss
Will not deter the priest
Who calls to the deceased:
"Arise, my son, discard your pain
By chanting this perverse refrain:
Oh, diddle me once and fiddle me twice
Five past four and we're gone in a trice
The end, alas, came all too soon
The music critics scorned our tune
And dubbed us all tone-deaf
A big fat treble Clef
Was all the gods had left there for us
a pint of stout and a bit of a fuss
Oh, griddle me once and middle me twice
Three and four is a seven...in dice
| Contributors: | Roland, F, Beefy, jm, Nigel Sly, simbosa. |
| Poem finished: | 29th November 2004 by Roland. |