i’ve just turned an umbrella into a skirt
(ok... a tiara)...
what the **** are you on about concerning
informal messaging when
all the postcards went missing?*

alt. title - song for the **** of a pin-up,
benny hill and the done exterior...
we all 'ad our glad tidings... few remembered
the tide, let alone the waves....
or so student fee bargains said: be it told.
scotch witches were greedy on the thought of it
becoming adventurous... english ones
gave it all up to paedophiles aged under 16 for ****...
as always the welsh were kept sacred...
the heart of the prince the people were symbolised as...
so the commoners the roses and the ***** ***** equal...
among the dragons and saintly conquests
and longbow men in France the cut of ****-off-****-you
of the index and middle equating a V... to you too!
i said something else, but got bored from writing it.