Oh Deirdre, Oh Deirdre,
what words can I say
to express how I feel
when you are far away.
But Deirdre, when you are close to me
and I think of the things you do,
my whole body starts to shake
and that's when I feel blue.
The sight of your gargoyle face
and the words that spit from your mouth,
make me break out in a cold, cold sweat
and I wish I was far, far south.
Oh Deirdre, it has to be said,
the taste of your cooking makes me ill.
Your under-cooked roasts are really vile,
as for your soup, well it's pig swill.
Your gas-like breath sends me to sleep.
Your toxic nagging drives me to drink.
I don't know how much more I can stand!
Oh Deirdre I'm dangling on the brink.
But Oh Deirdre, when I'm feeling low
Maybe all is not doom and gloom.
Your fortune will be mine when you die.
So Deirdre, my darling, please die SOON
© Copyright 2010 Ken P Duddle (UN: nightguard at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Ken P Duddle has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
|Log In To Leave Feedback|