There was once a young man from Blacksheath

Who sat on his set of false teeth

He jumped yup with a start

And said ‘Bless my Heart,

I’ve bitten myself underneath

I sat next to the Duchess at tea

It was exactly as I had feared it would be

Her rumblings abdominal (fart)

Were truly phenomenal

And everyone thought it was me!

There was once a young lady from Eeling

Blessed with such delicate feeling

When she read on the door

Don’t spit on the floor

She jumped up and spat on the ceiling.

I’d rather have fingers than toes

I’d rather have ears than a nose

But as for my hair

I’m glad it’s still there

I’ll be awfully sad when it goes.

Ira Pachori

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