The Soakaway

What’s that smell someone says, what’s that stink
Whilst hovering over the sink
You can tell by the way that they pinch their nose
Go green at the gills and curl up their toes
That it’s you’re friend and our missing link

For many a month one can say
It sits silently bubbling away
It causes no bother
To daughter or mother
But that’s when we start to pray

I know that it’s time ’cos of gathering slime
Is blocking a clean getaway
And the lumps and the dumps will surely just sit
’Till Richard the smelly is up to his ’pit
Working and rodding all day

So now it runs cleanly and sweetly
As you sit with no thought just delight
Just think of the man
Whose hand you might spurn
If only you’d guessed and were right

The Soakaway

BurtleBard

Burtle, United Kingdom

  • Artist
    Notes
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desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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