Fumbling for Sanity

 
Fumble, fumble Mr Bumble, forget the fridge today

I’m squeezeably and easily the greatest tuft of hair, I waste the day away
Broken hearts and Mrs Marks is all they have to say

When dawn it shines, the taste sublime, shall fill the bright with whining
Lifting and laughing to serious things, complex decisions on frivolous whims

I’ve played the park and bowled the priest, inside his mind there is no feast

Drastic measures appear, not
Clever
Stumbling fool and cotton cod threads, make amends or stroke the hen

Dick, cluck, dang, cluck, dong the witch is dead, what’s she doing on my death bed?

Noise, the simplest of reversions

Bing, oink, bang, moo, bong, fatuous rodent of promiscuous fronds make the mistletoe glow with an insatiable yearning!

So make the curtains glow with the show, never stop learning, never stop herding!

We make our marks just like marks and we eat our feet to the sound of the drums

Dum dumd dum
Bing bang bum

Making noise is fun!

The frootling cootling has occurred!
Oh dear my friend have you never heard?
And what betrays some tattered wings more than a morsel of truth?

More than a morsel of truth?
 
Well I’m fumbling in penury for some answers
Fumbling to my hands are raw
Fumbling ‘til they’re sore, fumbling ‘til I sore

Black sheep, sheep dip, all dead with the rest, baaaaaah!

I told you noise was fun

The funniest of all!

Now go fucking fish!

He he!