Or, as I've heard it said from the old Hibernian sod:
"Gargling Money"
by S. Woon
But soon and sadly, like all the rest I fear,
He'll sag and start selling stuff... or maybe not! We'll see.
One day too may choke he
at the bank with crowds
while hosing a dose.
and the ambient music becomes more so,
in the dust, never heard.
How sad!
And awfully too,
the stores all suddenly closed.
So everyone went home and cried, "What'll we do?"
Then Gramma said,
"Why there's some perfectly good ambient music being wasted right now!
It's playin outside the winder all the livelong day,
but nobody's fer listenin', catscratchit!"
So they did.
And although they were a little bit scared,
and then a little bored,
they all slept well.
Even wee little ____, the busiest one.
So ye now, cuddle doon, little bairnies..
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