Booted
The boss was a real ing wanker who abused his position
Now he’s got the golden boot and is no longer there
But he goes to the company cark park to see his lieutenant
Who is just the same as him an equal seller more arrogant!
The original boss was quite a nice guy not a bastard
It was his elite selling unit he set up that stunk of elitism
You’re not ing fighter pilots so why the fake Godliness
It all stinks of bull and **** licking all the way
Tong that far up the butt it comes outa their damn mouth
Who will fill the original boss’ boots will it be his lieutenant?
Who went to the same skool and was trained the same way
Instructions and orders are sent via messenger do this and that
Keep at it run the account my way this way I’m still there
My influence is like Uncle Joe Stalin always present and seeing
Give them Hell drove them to break to leave hire and fire ‘em
Still give me some wanga it’s my account even if I’m booted
The day started badly as I had a bat flattery on my vodge diper
It was roaring with pain when I arrived at the par cark at the mall
Went to put my bopping in the shoot and I turned into a bowel feast
I’d had a blushing crow… there was a rent in the dear
It had been hit by a bunken drum - I was mopping had!
He tried to apologise but was whiring his slords
I got out my phobile moan and a policeman cook my tall
He arrived at the mall in his canda par at the lead of spite
After my lad buck I went home to tell dumb and mad
Dad teased my ears, said I could use the buttle shush until it was mended
Contest: Spoonerisms Sponsored by Roy Jerden
02~29~16
I am the poet of love and truth
from chimeras your soul I'll soothe.
I shall reveal to thee the world's heart
how it is perverse, corrupt and full of cark,
And later I shall show thee a true paradise
that exists in this degenerate world of lies,
hidden to protect persons such as you.
Your lilac dress graces the palaces of white roses
You flitter to and fro, your long skirt swooshing forth with elegance.
Across the dance hall's marble floor. Through the entrance
you came greeted by the cheering crowds
curtsy offered by true nobles and bows.
Guarded you were by the greatest soldiers of this world,
who by brave deeds into thy royal court they soared,
gaining thy favor with honor and glory
Oh thou daughter regent of the meadow fields.
You haunt my soul
and left a hole
to foster death
within my chest.
Why came I to love you so?
you became my obsession
and my heart's suppression.
Ne'er again love's seeds I'll sow
for you became a rotten crow tree within my heart
whose unremovable rotted roots became my cark.
A corpse herein lies
who buries your lies
with which was caved in
by the weight of your sin.
His failed attempts to hate
the slaver causing craze
of his mind, the poor slave.
a smile on the dial as off you go,
saint Peter is waiting ya maybe no,
stay away from me Joe the crow,
u aint gettin me eyeballs later ...oh
Don
If ya lived awhile in west Queensland,
out in the red soil dust,
where crows will pick ya eyes,
out n bore water is a must.
When you or an animal is dying the crows line up for sweets...
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