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Imbecilic
Imbecilic
By the shores of imbecilic,
Butt painted with acrylic
Was a lunatic without much enterprise,
By the shores of linga-longer
Out past the dead Dingoes donga,
Was a man not used 2 telling many lies,
With a fornication permit,
And an itch that needed, worm wit,
Eyeball on a different orbit,
In his eye,
Cos he cannot find his dinger,
Bells frigged without a ringer,
Cos OP rum will only paralyze,
Guess ya canna well absorb it,
Being well rubbed with de morbid
With vix he needs to daub-it
Till the maggots multiply,
Till the imbecilic spell,
Leaves ole Johnson fairly well,
And he staggers off,
With all unbuttoned flys… Don Johnson
Copyright ©
Don Johnson
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