The Bible says we are all made in God's image,
in every way we're a match,
so why can't I reach part of my shoulder blades
from above or below for a scratch?
The Good Lord resides in the Heavens above,
perfection, where nothing can fail,
so why can't I lift my foot up far enough
on my other leg to clip my nails?
God is immaculate, he stands incorrupt,
in all aspects nothing he lacks,
so why is my fingertip just that bit short
when I'm clearing my earhole of wax?
Is it because Adam and Eve were perfect until
they disobeyed God and they sinned,
and everyone born after that had their faults,
the original model God binned?
And that is why though we are all sinners now
because of the choices they made,
the Good Lord had mercy, invented the spoon
so that I can reach my shoulder blade.
Categories:
earhole, humanity, humor,
Form: Rhyme
There worra a young lad called Albert,
He were allus up t' no good,
He'd stand ont corner by t'lamp post,
sparkin' 'is clogs like mad,
'til day he were caught by 'is Dad.
Dad said to him, now stop it,
Tha's wearin' out tips my lad,
an I'll 'ave t' up n fix 'em
wi me hammer n me last,
Then 'e gave Albert a clip round earhole,
wi' edge o' his cloth cap as he passed.
Albert thought sparkin' were painful,
holdin' 'is ear, n sheddin' a tear
So he buggered off in t' next street,
mekkin sure is Dad weren't near.
In Lancashire dialect
© Dave Timperley 18 July 2017.
Categories:
earhole, funny,
Form: Rhyme