By Lord of the Tiny Snakes
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It began on a hairy autumn morning:
I was the most pretty pub landlord around,
He was the most remarkable linguist.
He was my cousin,
My remarkable cousin,
My linguist.
We used to hit so well together,
Back then.
We wanted to kick together, around the world,
We wanted it all.
But one morning, one hairy morning,
We decided to kick too much.
Together we googled a spinster.
It was strong, so strong.
From that moment our relationship changed.
He grew so lonely.
And then it happened:
Oh no! Oh no!
He sniffed a plant.
Alas, a plant!
My cousin sniffed a plant.
It was divorced, so divorced.
The next day I thought my mouth had broken,
I thought my arm pits had burst into flames,
(But I was actually overreacting a little.)
But still, he is in my thoughts.
I think about how it all changed that morning,
That hairy autumn morning.
My arm pits... ouch!
When I think of that remarkable linguist,
That remarkable linguist and me.