Dr Tom Foolery wants you to think
that the drain's blocked, in the carbon sink,
but the truth of the matter is thus:
The climate has changed
cause the gods are deranged,
and this is the cause of the fuss:
Here is the true and uplifting tale
of a lovely young lass with an elegant tail,
that explains why the rains are now lost.
It’s the yarn of a dazzling and fetching lass,
who with an elegant excess of sass
put a permanent spoke in the weather..
When Ginny was still very young,
boys who saw her, if highly strung
found their troubles had just begun.
So she was sent, to a good girl's school,
where all the girls did their best to keep cool.
and there smoldered, until she caught fire.
Ginny crossed herself
and then crossed the world,
and then double-crossed desire.
She bedded the handsomest rockers and rakes,
till, bored, she decided to raise the stakes
ever so slightly higher.
She said to her sisters-in-sin:
There's one last bastard worth a win,
and with him I am going to get level.
Then she bet them her soul,
to a begging bowl
that she could screw the devil.
So Ginny sauntered, down to hell
where, as far as we can tell,
she pleasured several friends of Nick's.
The lads in charge of the fires of hell
swore they'd never seen such a scorching belle;
every stoker broke out in a sweat.
Chorus:
For no man or god
is a rational sod
when a wench is playing tag,
and the devil's gin
has a winsome grin
and a chassis like an E-type jag.
She gave Nick’s boatman such a ride
that to save himself, he went over the side
and she, barely, avoided a swim in the
Well, the devil was far too easy,
for he was hot as well as sleazy,.
But, he had a wicked sense of humor.
He took her upstairs to meet one of his mates,
the captain of the pearly gates,
with a grin, charged with devilish glee.
St Peter smiled and let her pass,
gave her a wink and pinched her arse
and slipped Nick a fiver, as a spotters fee.
Ginny thanked St Peter sweetly,
as she knackered him completely,
for she was, as said, from a good girl's school.
Well it's still officially, emphatically, denied,
that blue-eyes when she left him,
broke right down and cried,
Though those angels with
a sense of humor
will admit, that there's a rumour.
That his old man chased him out,
for getting Ginny up the spout,
while he was absent and abstaining, with the Pope.
Chorus:
So now, if there's a quake
and tall buildings dance and shake
that tells you Ginny's down with the devil's host.
But if instead there's thunder, but not a drop of rain
that tell’s Ginny's riding high again.
or maybe she's just stripping, to amuse the holy ghost.
To work out who is catching a shag,
when the lightning's over, count the lag,
for the old man, so they say, is slowing down.
If it is on a Sunday, although he does his best,
we know that is the old chap’s day of rest,
so most likely, younger gods are going to town.
Then, the clouds are left bereft,
for young Ginny's rather deft,
when she signals with those, dare you, deep green eyes.
For if Ginny hints, come hither,
the sky gods forget he weather,
and all the bloody storm gods leave the skies.
Chorus
So if the ghost of Mr Gore goes by,
in his nuclear submarine
tell him it's not carbon, that reigns the sky as queen
Tell him it’s Ginny, screwing the sky
and I’ll bet that he will buy it,
‘cause he’s really rather green.
For Al forgot to watch the compass
as it declined, to tell it’s tale.
and so he took an iceberg for a whale.
Peter Ravenscroft October 2008.