A gardener named Kenneth McDeare
Likes plants more than women, we fear.
"He's hardly perennial."
Say folks who know Kenny well.
"He only comes up once a year" 

There was a young lady whose joys 
               Were achieved with incomparable poise. 
                    She could have an orgasm 
                    With never a spasm--- 
               She could fart without making a noise. 

There was a young man of Datchet 
               Who cut off his prick with a hatchet. 
                    Then very politely 
                    He sent it to Whitely, 
               And ordered a cunt that would match it. 

               "There is a young girl here at Vassar 
               And none, for your needs, could surpass her. 
                    But she cannot detach it 
                    And much less dispatch it. 
               You'll still have to bach it. Alas, sir!" 

There was a young person of Kent            
Who was famous wherever he went. 
All the way through a fuck 
He would quack like a duck, 
And he crowed like a cock when he spent. 

Goodbye

Goodbye, you see its time for me to die
It’s really been fun living in hell
And I’m sure it’s beginning to tell;
People are already saying God bless,
Its time this weary head was put to rest.

What is as versatile as a University?
Where the social life is a necessity
And the girls are all after the looks
Rather than what you can do with the books
But does the intention ever justify the end.

Still there are good things with life
Shame they are all double edged knifes
For the weapon is not fit as a sword,
For all we do with vast sums, is hoard
Money it seems will drive us to death.

But what are our best days I am told
It is question that is not quite so bold
For it is something that we all hold the key
Before that is when we cease to see
School and childhood is the answer.

We choose to forget those days
As it was all just a dizzy haze
It is childish and stupid we are told
But it’s the most valuable that we hold
Reminding ourselves of what was in front.

People you see, always see behind
From figures to stats which seem to bind.
Important we feel they may be
But it’s more relaxing just to sip tea
And try to grasp what our future holds.

Goodbye, you see its time for me to die
For what I’ve said could all be a lie
But if that was true then why do I feel dread
As I near my final challenge in facing death
Does the intention ever justify the end.

Sent by Justin Parker