John Keyes

Despite being of the trivial kind
No words I find for my rhyme
So just this once I’ll let it pass
“Ta fuck” said Patie Ryan to the ass.

Sing a song of six cents
A pocket full of crime
Twenty four blackguards
Locked up doing time.

Scribble scrabble doodle dum
Wibble wobble poodle pum
Fribble frabble boodle bum
Quibble quabble koodle kum.

Wise cracks black sacks
Very very frightening indeed
Short backs flat tracks
Because poetry

You grab the mic and you try to repeat
All the words you didn’t hear when living on the streets
You sell it like yourself all the lingo from the block
All the cusswords just a weak attempt to shock.