The Ballad of Rosie
Whatever you require Squire
If you can set my heart on file
O'Rosie, Rosie, my predicament is dire
How can I set your heart on fire
Admire, Squire my one desire
Desire sets my heart on fire
I desire, I desire, O'Rosie the fire
In my heart, it's you I desire
You Squire, are a liar
Your wicked way is what you desire
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A Lad Insane
He's Jesus Christ
Or so he thinks
Incarcerated in the system
Maybe it stinks
He writes a book
To confirm his thinking
He takes a sly look
At the nurses winking
Are the nurses thinking
whilst they are winking
The lad's head needs shrinking
To correct his thinking
The lad in his delusion
Is lamb seh, his conclusion
The real Jesus Christ
Not an illusion
Swallong his pills
to cure his ills
He's Jesus Christ
On Calvary Hill
He can feed five thousand
On the plain
Is he merely
a lad insane?
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Psycopathology Patient
Literature he tried to handle
Executed as a fandangle
His writing incoherent
Reading it a deterrent
Endeavouring to express his art
Readers couldn't decipher the parts
Obsessively he wrote his pieces
Regardless of the understanding of indices
Merrily he delivered his written expressions
Clearing his mind in written confessions
The reader alienated from the depth
His secret disguised and kept.
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