Raillery

Small gauge large sound could be trivia profound Stations and shunters red lights for the punters Small member large auto mobile cars pars pro toto In silly banter we trust French letters a must But remember the other Freud had a mother In Victorian Vienna he toiled his thoughts rather soiled In mind he bonked on the couch dirty old man sought to debauch Those wicked rationalizations what a treat for all nations Kill thy father bonk thy pother plenty of perversity to smother So deliriously stupid it seems it is all in all in those dreams Yet morbid mortality calls when the man stumbles and falls He walked a tight sleezy rope cocaine was his grand old dope When the wicked go mad it culminates bad and sad High volume tiny shackles still nonsense’s trifle crackles All quiet again at the libido check out Sigmund is dead long live the doubt