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andy fardell
Poems
Mar 28
The Dribble
The Dribble
I woke up to the dribble
All slapping at my cheek
It wasn't very pretty
It made me feel quite bleek
My tongue just wasn't cutting it
It needed handed touch
The dribble wasn't shifting
Till backhand gave it love
So there I am still half asleep
This goo all on my hand
I wiped it on my girlfriends hair
I'm sure she'll understand
Written by
andy fardell
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Erenn
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