FG, or not FG: ask her suggestion?
Whether 'tis nobler not to make her suffer
The Ones and comments at outrageous poor pun
Or to join minds of violin's and turtle's
And by conjoining, coin them? To write of sheep
No more; and by her deep thoughts, may we mend
The fart-ache, and the thousand songs of c*cks
TT's done thereto. 'Tis a combination
Whose output: finely dished. That's why I leap --
I leap at chance to team: ay, no more: flub.
For with her AIR-y breath, what schemes may come
When we go shuffling off; she's quite a foil
And earns applause. Her, I respect;
But makes a parody much longer write.
For who would want to take the extra time
To co-write song, the e-mails consuming --
-- Our night to dispute lines; some more delay;
The messages of offense as song churns;
Impatience, bear it at so many "takes",
When he himself might his satires make
Without this talkin'? Who would Fiddles bear,
And want to fret, both of us: weary, strife?
But that her head of good ideas, a wealth
Of undiscover'd punn'ry; fine subs born;
New revels does she earn; guzzle our fill,
And makes us rather pair those skills we have
Than fly it solo, which I do much of.
Thus patience does grow powers for us both
And thus my native "shell" of isolation
Is pricked once more by the gal fast of thought;
Joint enterprises of great piss and groaning;
With this in mind, we once more jointly try
Till both find satisfaction. -- Look out, Whoa!
A rare idea, yeah! Nymph, for our parodies
Let's always be remember'd.