Stephen Robins15 Mar 2007

How utterly confounding,
Whilst your meat you were pounding,
To find a hairpiece; astounding!
And very fishy 'tis sounding,
As I've heard tale this wig was surrounding,
The face of a foundling,
That you were seen hounding.

So can you please explain,
When you claim to abstain,
Why you're snorting cocaine,
And smell of champagne,
You've created a stain,
On this poor foundling's brain,
Making it plain,
'Tis okay to obtain,
A hairpiece of fame,
And embark on a campaign;
Of pedaristic shame,
And then later proclaim,
'Twas the hairpiece to blame.

Well I fear for your soul,
As you pummel his hole,
With the wig that you stole.