I think I will get a tattoo, or two,

Of you

Or a sleave with some serious ink,

In pink

May be something in words so felt,

Not misspelt

I’ll get them all over, even near the ear,

No fear

Looking like Joseph’s cloak, I’ll be the bloke,

No joke

But then I think of the pain, the pain, the pain,


And when I’m ageing, skin dried and wrinkling,

An inkling

That I should have covered in kid’s transfers.

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