(to Noel Fielding)
Stirring rhymes can come your way
Billowing from unlikely quarters
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He sounds like a load of talent wrapped up in a hum-drum, dwindling life and disguised by a Cockney accent. Your lyrics will rattle around in my mind like roasted chestnuts in a warm pocket.
To 'Itcha' s own. There is no vulgarity, in the honest expression of the Soul F**k Em', if they can't recognize the 'Reality of Life Dainties' spread upon the Dinner Plate and Soup Bowl Are tasteless vanities As Fresh Baked Bred without Butter Knife.
He-he-he! Well, perhaps just a tiny bit vulgar, but not entirely in bad taste, right? Perhaps you meant Fresh Baked Fred? Poor geezer got stuck in an industrial oven while trying to repair it! But seriously Donald, I agree, poetry shouldn't be politically correct, or anything, for that matter. Just let go and write what moves your soul.