NOT KEEPING UP HIS ZIP – A ‘silly’ verse for wayward chaps!

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The bus that ran me over,

Was coloured vivid red,

Same colour as the blood I spilt,

When they declared me dead.

 

And thus it is I find myself,

In a place I do not know,

Wishing my love were with me now,

And not carping on down below.

 

For I had cheated on her,

With a barmaid from down the pub,

A sexy girl, Svetlana is,

And that is, my friend the nub,

 

Of this tragic, woeful tale,

Of a man with too much lip,

Chatting up his lady friends,

Not keeping up his zip.

 

So what to do in death?

In limbo or purgatory?

If there were some wise Christians here,

I feel sure they would tell me,

 

Exactly what this gig entails,

Be it heaven or be it hell,

Guess it’s more likely that the latter,

Will be the place I’ll come to dwell.

 

For I am such a scoundrel,

To treat my lover thus,

So I’m guessing that’s the reason,

She pushed me under that bus!

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8 thoughts on “NOT KEEPING UP HIS ZIP – A ‘silly’ verse for wayward chaps!

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