by Nick Gisburne
She dug up something borrowed, something blue
Her sister’s boyfriend, from a shallow grave
And staring in those empty eyes, she knew
A rotting corpse will never misbehave
The quest was on for something very old
And grandpa’s severed testicle was it
He’d left it in the fridge to keep it cold
She made some soup to thaw it out a bit
Now something new was all she had to find
She couldn’t snatch a baby - time was short
Instead, she bashed a junkie from behind
And stole the stash of heroin he’d bought
When all these gifts were given to the bride
The wedding party vomited and cried
