Saturday, 2 June 2012
Cardinal Sin knew what trouble he’s in
When he woke up and went to the door;
A thousand reporters, their sons and their daughters
Were there who had not been before.
Donning biretta, cassock and mozzetta
He stumbled and tripped down the stairs.
Hoping to sight, as well he might,
What it was that had brought them all there.
“We want your head, we’ll rejoice when you’re dead.
Oh Sin,” they began to explain
“It may sound absurd but we’ve recently heard
You’re the root of all suffering and pain.”
The cardinal sighed and, adjusting his guise,
Said his parents were really to blame;
For they had conferred what he had now heard
Was a rather uncommon surname.
The cardinal’s strife started early in life
When buying things over the phone
What took the edge off his constant rebuff
Was the fact that he wasn’t alone.
Consider the nature of Mustard, a major
outstanding, but fearing promotion.
Or what of that guy called David Birdseye
Unable to master the ocean?
Manuel Labor and Miss Ella Vaytor
Suffer just like Mark Set-Go.
Consider the pain, please, of General Enquiries,
Mike Hunt, and Mister Wayne Bow.
With luck the gist of this nominal list
Will help you reach the conclusion;
Yes, sticks and stones may fracture your bones
But words can cause bloody confusion.