I got sick and tired of doing maths
So I spend my time with tongue firm in my cheek
Appalled by comments in the Telegraph

We all have our vocations,c’est ne pas?
Even when our mouths and bladders leak
I got worn out doing advanced maths

I’ll put more boiling water in the bath
Otherwise the outlook is frantique
Pouring comments on the Telegraph

I know our country’s full of psychopaths
People mad wth rage are not unique
I shall reflect on doing what’s called maths

Rarely do we see each other laugh
Nor cast a glance that does not seem oblique
On crazy comments in the Telegraph

I feel the future may be dark and bleak
We’ll have our bedrooms without an en-suite
I got far too focussed on pure maths
Now I grin at comments writ with wrath