JIM

It was a fruitless task….. the harder Jim rubbed, the more he could smell the pig’s purse. 'Scratchett!' he mumbled and lined up his salty button collection for the nit nurse For Jim was tired. Wellington tired. Tired of eating moth-rats and cream The constant pressure to de-tangle sports sock hairs- made him silently scream ! Life was hard. His cat’s pinny was hard. The marmalade ruined his tanks Day after day he’d shovel coal into the lion’s mouth - and for what thanks? a chewed up teapot with no flavour and a rotating turd on a stick.?‘ Barfuncle carbuncle’ he brawled and he barfed - his life just made him sick So Jim, poor Jim, full of vimto and Vim-gargled along to this ballad while his alter -ego, Ed, merely blinked and brayed like a flaccid salad. At least it stopped the rabbit from sneezing. At least it stopped the rabbit from s-s-s- At least it stopped the rabbit from sneezing I guess, that's partly pleasing It was a fruitless task….. the harder Jim rubbed, the more he could smell the pig’s purse. 'Scratchett’ he mumbled and lined up his salty button collection for the nit nurse For Jim was tired. Wellington tired. Tired of eating moth-rats and cream The constant pressure to de-tangle sports sock hairs- made him silently scream ! Life was Jim oh Jim , the harder he rubbed, the more he could smell the pig's purse Jim oh Jim, ten frogs he scrubbed , but he only made the sandwich worse