If all the world were paper
  and all the seas were ink,
  the writers of this funny world
  would come off best - I think!



  Let us tango down the street
  twirling round the folk we meet,
  they won't be looking at our feet
  because the tango's not disceet!



  I don't mind putting up with dratted flies,
  until they start to foricate before my very eyes,
  so then I get the aerosol and give them both a blow,
  as they expire, I hear them sigh,
  'What a way to go!'


 
  Little dog, crowded street,
  heavy van, potted meat.
  Potted meat, labelled veal
  velly nice Chinese meal.



  In far off Space there can be seen
  Antares with his small companion,
  Super star of fiery red, she just ordinary green.
  Influencing without touching
  ever circling through their days.
  Should they merge, then total fusion
  will light the whole eternal scene,
  and one will glow where two have been.