Wot U Lookin’ At?!

Honestly mate, you really shouldn’t try,
D’you wanna know why?
I’ve got scars on my thigh,
Scored down there by a deadly samurai,
And I’d show each one of you ruffian teens,
But I can’t roll up my skinny jeans,
They wont go past my ankle,
On account of being tight,
But any more of this,
And we’ll be having a fisticuff fight,
Don’t be fooled by my height,
I just wont take this ruddy shite,

Did you mishear what I said,
Or is your memory getting hazy?
Cuz if you knew what I could do,
You wouldn’t be so crazy,
I once fought to the death,
For the honour of a lady,
And while you’re at it,
Get your hands off my jalfrezi!

Now steady on with your expletive flurry,
I only came out for a little bit of curry,
And while sticks and stones don’t make me worry,
If you felt my moves,
You wouldn’t curse in such a hurry,

I even saved a girl from drowning,
Just before I dumped her,
Learned to swim through chocolate,
From an oompa loompa,
Once killed a man with an angora jumper,
And if you don’t stand aside,
Then I’m going to thump ya!

You’re heading the way for a nasty maiming,
I’ve had extensive marshal-army training,
Yet if I let loose then there’ll be no taming,
But I’ve got on my good shirt,
And it doesn’t want staining,
So I’ll count to ten, for you to get away,
But if you’re still in reach then they’ll be a fray,
It’ll start to look like that Scottish play,

I don’t mind doing things I’m not supposed,
And I dare you now to call my boast,
Because the next time I see you,
You’ll be Banquo’s Ghost!


About Gwen and Elinor

Two bloging buddies who love tea and biscuits.
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