arrow_circle_left arrow_circle_up arrow_circle_right
A Sticky End
help
....and so it begins
arrow_circle_up
The ladies set to tinkering with what went in the mix
They wanted to surprise their men (really just for kicks)
Now, one such brew, called "How d'Ye Do", was prized above all others
For making weak men unafraid but ruining their mothers
The brew was noxious, green, and burly
                                                                              and surely quite undrinkable
You might get some at Wetherspoons - elsewhere would be unthinkable
Well, one brave lad named Galahad had never had a gal.
Not a Kathy or a Justine, not a Karen, Clare or Val
"Oh woe is me, I'll never be a proper man!", he'd wail
(Perpetually virginal and literal epic fail)
So he rode forth one fatal day, with bottles of this potion
So he rode forth one fatal day, with bottles of this potion
(sorry, unintended repeat there...)
He sold it countrywide; it needed no promotion
[Rosie] Might he have marketed it instead?
(Raak) Yeah, OK. Better rhythm.
He plied the folk from Kent to Stoke with samples of his brew
And, no mistake, left in his wake was plenty "How d'Ye Do"
The Potters and the Kentish Men found all their cares had flown
And not just that, it seemed that several other things had grown
arrow_circle_down
Want to play? Online Crescenteering lives on at Discord