Ding **** ding.
Could you make any more?
The noise you're creating,
now my ears are sore.

You have a brass neck.
Who's pulling your strings,
and now every Sunday
a crowd turns up and sings.

So, ding **** ding.
Now, la la la
because you're a bell-end.
Yes, that's what you are!

Poetry by Kaydee.