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Pea and Honey Recipes
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I Eat My Peas With Honey
And tales of derring-do.
Four lines, they can be rhyming
(That's Glow Worms to me and you).
Ending line is as usual.
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So I'll serenade the moon.
I don't forgive the roundheads
For actions cavalier
Old Olie was a tyrant
And he took away our beer
I wish I weren’t innumerate
So mathematically numb
I can't work out the interest rate
Being Chancellor was dumb
I'm glad I'm not Jeremy Hunt
For taxing is his role
And I feel taxed just standing up
But rhyming slang's his goal.
I hold it, hold it, hold it more
My effort is in vain
For now it’s down there on the floor
Next time I'll use a crane.
I wish I were an elephant
In the corner of the room
All would see but none would tell
That I'm the voice of doom.
I wish I were a punk rocker
With piercings in my face
For this would be more likely than
The plan that is in place
I wish I were a nightingale
I'd charm the world with song
Which flighty chorus might entail
And sing all night long.
I'm glad I'm not a princess
'Cos I'd be so fussy.
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Become a shameless hussy!

I'm glad I'm not Marcel Marceau
Or I’d have this to say:
"                                         "
But that was yesterday
I'm glad I'm not a busted flush
For that's an awful fate
But I am just a failure
At getting my first date.
I'm glad I'm not a man of war
A hydrozoan beast
I'm more inclined to think of peace
In Portugal at least
I wonder what's on the box
The one containing tricks
Oh. Nothing. I'll go out instead.
And find nothing at the flicks.
If I smell the roses
I might just prick my nose
And those who prick their noses
Stub their knees and pick their toes.
I long for obsolescence
Swift turnaround's my thing
I'll transmigrate my essence
For to nothing I do cling
These boots were made for something
And something's what they'll do
Observe as they do one thing
That's walk all over you
The quality of mercy
Depends on who you know
Luckily, my friends agree
You ordered flesh to go.
I wish I were in Amsterdam
To see the parakeets
While sipping on my Advocaat
And moistening the seats.
I know a bank where wild thyme blows
That's sweetly sprung in June
And like my love the musk-red rose
I’ll feel a right ass soon.
To be or not to be, that is
The pencil salesman’s lot
But personae more dramatis
Sketch a much darker plot
Is this a dagger or a sponge
Or duck-billed platypus?
Neither, it is virtual
It's next-door's tatty puss. Softers, old bean, this is not a f****** limo
If music be the food of love
Then jazz it up I say
But if you like your love life bland
It's Musak all the way
Alas poor Yorick who I knew
Quite well, but that was then
Just thinking on him makes me blue
In cat lives he's on ten. (Softers) Sorry - inappropriate comment a couple of goes back.
Today I've got a toothache True. [Rosie] No sweat.
I'd like to pull it out
But with breath to make a dentist quake
I'll close my lips and pout
I wish I had a dentist's drill
Hidden textIs it safe?
; A bag of shiny gems
A glass of that pink water
From which all comfort stems.
I wish my drill could crack a safe
I wish this safe would crack
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