My book Harry the Louse goes to the dogs
While once more I focus on writing blogs So two birds I’ll kill with one large rock This blogging business is poppycock *** The first in my sights, my damned editor Whatever I write she demands far more The next perhaps Harry’s golden goose Shall I rewrite her as a grabbing moose? *** Harry thought she was just right for him Elegant, sexy, well-heeled and slim It turns out that she’s no bimbo blonde The type of woman of which he’s fond *** She’s with poor Harry when he’s robbed She felt his anguish while he sobbed, ‘The thieving swine’s taken all my cash But to lend to me would just be rash’ *** He sits there hurt with blooded nose His building plans beset by woes ‘I will not let you invest your money In Cretan dreams of milk and honey’ *** Could his refusal be calculation To hide his plan’s examination Does he believe that by saying no More likely to him her cash will flow?
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