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The Obligatory Limericks Game Reincarnated
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And so it begins....
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In the forests of far Khalahand
I tuned up my old baby grand
And gave them some Liszt
As the bushmasters hissed
We're thinking of forming a band
So we'll go no more roving, it seems      Thanks, Rab
Brexit has clipp-ed our wings
My passport's expired
And I'm ever so tired
But at least we can still feel like kings
It took me aback and away
When a bright, happy sun rose today
Will things improve
Or will nature remove
What it's given, as is nature's way?
There was an old man from West Ealing trad
Whose todger got stuck to the ceiling trad
He reached for his chisel mad
which loosened the pizzle
And now it's replastered, it's healing
(apologies but the lines appeared fully-formed to me in blazing letters on my trousers)
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