by Eric Tate You may think the town-gossip is the man that you see, But I can show you just how wrong you can be. The town-gossip we had Was so wickedly bad, She terrified everyone... including me. The local schoolteacher, with her eagle eye Missed nothing at all, from whatever passed by. What she claimed to have seen Was so false and so mean: That many a maiden would break down and cry! This tight old Spinster had never known bliss Of sweet Lovemaking. So she attacked this. With a mind like a ditch, The frustated old witch, Just spent her life making war on the Kiss! This gossip didn't gossip behind people's backs, No! She was an expert at frontal attacks; So she says to I "Though you are so sly, I know You go with women whose Morals are Lax! When I see your barrow outside some door, I know the woman inside is acting the whore! It's all open season, And YOU are the reason All of these women are enjoying amour!" Handyman/Gardener; I've aye plyed my trades In the main serving old Widows and Maids. I push my wheelbarrow, Carting Hammer and Harrow, So I've every tool from screwdrivers to spades. Now: If I'm attacked, I not never take Flight, She must get come-uppance in everyone's sight.! So: To stop the rot, My devious plot; I just left my barrow outside her door... All night!
The end