No Decoder Required

Stinch a finch with the bullet winch,
Loopy looks along and I find filberts in my clinch.
Now just when whippety weather winds wont send me whirling,
You yank at the yummerswitch to set me a simper-float...
Casting me off to the sully suncookin' sea

So this means You know,
In the who knows who,
of when I once knew.
If You tried to tell the Dura-swell that I sunk out there,
Out there, beyond despair beyond the most benign love & care,
That finch would come down on you full tilt
To see you writhe in your inspid guilt.