by Nick Gisburne
I am selling my soul. Will you buy it?
It’s the Angel Mark 2 - you can fly it
It’s a little bit rusty
The morals are crusty
I’ll give you a discount. Just try it
I discovered a hole in the wall
Through the tunnel I eagerly crawl
I expected to find
Something splendid behind
But it’s nothing like Narnia at all
I bought magical beans in a bag
And I don’t want to niggle or nag
But the wizard who sold me
The beans should have told me
There’s ‘Danger of Death’ on the tag
At the castle the princess was torn
By the magical oath she had sworn
“All my duties are clear
But the paragraph here
Says I’m never allowed to do porn”
Hot and sticky, I sat in the sea
And a bear came to join me for tea
When he offered me fish
In a porcelain dish
It was only polite to agree
From the alien energy source
Came a beam of incredible force
But a blizzard of smoke
Filled the sky as it broke
And the warranty? Worthless of course
She has suffered for all of his crimes
In the worst and the darkest of times
For his years of abuse
He will die in the noose
To his death, to the scaffold, he climbs
Tiny leprechauns come for the craic
They are formal at dinner, in black
But they’ve broken the rule
‘Do not shit in the pool’
I am never inviting them back
What a glorious, colourful bird
And the song, quite the sweetest I’ve heard
It was hit by a car
Here’s the head, in a jar
This was not the result I preferred
When the snowman was dating my daughter
I was pleased with the flowers he bought her
But I gave him no doubt
If his snowballs fell out
I would thaw out his thing with hot water
