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Poetry
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| There were three old folk | |
| By Talisker | ||||||||
| 12 November 2006 | ||||||||
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Think Michael Finnegan, who grew whiskers on his chinnegan etc... There was an old man called Gerard Connolly, “Told me keep the screw-cap on Oli, For when you drink, your talent’s gone Oli” Wise old Mr. Connolly. C’mon Oli. There was an old man from far Dingdongalong, If you sung he’d sure singsong along, Dropped his Seiko in a billabong, Why’d he bring the stupid bloody thing along? There was an old woman name of Witzl, Got a piercing on her bitzl, She thought it’d make her love life fitzzle, But now poor Witzl just can sit still. Oli (12/11/06)
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