Could be renamed the Morrissey thread.
The pain was enough to make a shy bald Buddhist reflect
And plan a mass murder
"I know you and you cannot sing."
I said "That's nothing, you should hear me play piano"
But sometimes I'd feel more fulfilled
Making Christmas cards with the mentally ill
Frankly Mr. Shankly since you ask
You are a flatulent pain in the ass
She wants it now
And she will not wait
But she's too rough
And I'm too delicate
"I'm starved of mirth, let's go and trip a dwarf"
If your god bestows protection upon you
And if the USA doesn't bomb you
I will see you in far off places
The note I wrote as she read, she said
"Has the Perrier gone straight to my head"
From the ice-age to the dole-age
There is but one concern
I have just discovered
Some girls are bigger than others
I left the South
I travelled north
I got confused, I killed a horse
I can't help the way I feel
It was dark as I drove the point home
(triple entendre, not uncommon in hip-hop)
Last edited by Magnum PEI; 08-26-2016 at 01:00 PM.
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