I’m sure I never said that to him,
Even if he does smell like biscuits and tuna.
I would never, I mean never ever,
Tell him about his froggy eyes,
How they bulge out of his head
Honestly, never
Or how he walks like a malnourished snail.
You know, one without slime,
Very slow, a low smelly froggy eyed man
But I never ever ever told him that,
Or even implied
That his head is too big for his shoulders,
He speaks like a llama munching liquorice,
Or even his teeth, you know his teeth,
Makes him look like a rabid bear
With rabbit still fresh stuck between.
I never ever, ever, ever called him,
A lazy good for nothing sod,
Though in truth he does like a nap
And snores like a growling gorilla chewing a wasp.
But I’m lucky, apart from all that,
well, he does wipe his feet.