Ode to the Sausage Man part two
or
The return of the Jelly Breasted woman
We are now in a position to find 'p'
Fight like a flutterby, be like Sting,
For the emphasis is on the atmosphere;
Lemon curry and Sausage Spam.
Nibble Nobble Nabble Nunch,
Give me your sausage so I can mosh,
So withered and yet so wild,
And fairy liquid is so mild.
Mummies going to be very cross with you,
because radioactive giant kangaroos are eating New York,
That was not politically raincoat,
So hangs the Jelly Breasted woman.
Hangmans hands, excellent hands,
They swarm and flollop to other lands,
They are soft and smooth but never hairy,
And thats because I wash dishes with water.
What do you mean, my nightgown looks like a sausage,
Drowning in the celestial salad,
Which proves by induction that
hands that do dishes
can be soft as a
Moose.
