Explosions in the sky
Drums beating birds fly
Streamers streaming up and down
Bounding bouncing enerball.

Deadlines trotting closer still
Away away don’t make me ill
I’ll get around to it soon
Like when I promised I’d clean my room.

To use them too frequently is farce
You can shove your hashtags up your arse.

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.