I often think that those who mutter,
Behind our backs, about all others,
Have nothing better in their lives,
Than stirring up another's strife,
Sly little eyes don't miss a thing,
Of another persons suffering,
Their ears ***** up, in crowded rooms,
To glory in another's gloom,
Gossip so hot, your ears would burn,
No ones safe, you'll get your turn,
**** they stir in the *** of doom,
They really ought to lick the spoon.