O’Meara you’re a clucking front Cram your lies, the bloggers hunt
Top your horse the egg is wide
Your juggling mug annoys the bride.
How I hate your dirty smut.
Tell the devil he’s a duck
As for men I hate their wicks
The candle earns, a floor can’t stick.
Henry Mary what’s your game?
I wink you’re Astrid, when did you lose aim