Gwen looks like Mavis Cruet,
The plump clumsy
fairy,
The one from Willo the
Wisp
All warty and hairy
Mavis was too fat too
fly
With erratic magical
powers
Gwen knows what we
call her
And she sits in her
office and glowers
She may look like
Mavis Cruet,
But in truth she’s
like Evil Edna
And she will wreak her
revenge
Because she’s our
employer
St Anthony is a patron saint
Of lost things,
articles and bits
I once had a St
Anthony Medal
But I don’t know where
to find it
Here is an important life tip
That will help you
like as not
If you see a lot, take
a few
If you see a few, take
the lot
You can wear an ankle bracelet
And have piercings
through your bits
You can even have a
tramp stamp
But don’t go messing
with your tits
You can wear a thong
up your bum
You can remove every
hair you’ve grown
You can show everyone
your belly
But please leave your
tits alone
I’ll admit they’re not
the biggest
But you have the
perfect little pair
I don’t want you to
look like Jordan
With two footballs
hanging there
Your breasts were made
by nature
And by definition they
are perfection
I don’t want a surgeon
Frankenstein
Messing with your
lovely confections
I’ve been dreading, turning forty,
But it occurred to me
then
That I won’t really be
40
I’ll just be thirty 10
At last, I’m retired
It’s just what I
desired
So goodbye to the
tension
And hello to my
pension
I went to a party
And I really dressed
to kill
A werewolf and a full
moon
Seemed to fit the bill
