SLOOGERMAN

One Sunday morn young Splooge went A-fishing' in the Wear; An' catched a fish upon he's heuk, He thowt leuk't varry splooge.

 But whatt'n a kind of fish it was Young Splooge cuddent tell. 
He waddn't fash te carry'd hyem, So he hoyed it doon a well.  cho: Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,      An Aa'll tell ye's aall an aaful story      
Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,      An' Aa'll tell ye  'boot the worm.  
Noo Splooge felt inclined te gan An' fight i' foreign wars. 
he joined a troop o' Knights that cared For nowther woonds nor scars, An' off he went te Palestine Where splooge things him befel,
 An' varry seun forgat aboot The splooge worm i' the well.  
But the worm got fat an' growed and' growed An' growed an aaful size; He'd greet big teeth, a greet big gob, An' greet big goggle eyes.
 An' when at neets he craaled aboot Te pick up bits o' news, If he felt dry upon the road, He milked a dozen coos.  
This splooge worm wad often feed On caalves an' lambs an' sheep, 
An' swally little barins alive When they laid doon te sleep. 
An' when he'd eaten aall he cud An' he had had he's fill, He craaled away an' lapped he's tail Seven times roond Pensher Hill.
  The news of this myest aaful worm An' his splooge gannins on Seun crossed the seas, gat te the ears Ov brave and' bowld Sor John.
 So hyem he cam an' catched the beast An' cut 'im in twe haalves, An' that seun stopped he's eatin' bairns, An' sheep an' lambs and caalves.  
So noo ye knaa hoo aall the foaks On byeth sides ov the Wear Lost lots o' sheep an' lots o' sleep An' leeved i' mortal feor.
 So let's hev one te brave Sor John That kept the bairns frae harm, Saved coos an' caalves by myekin' haalves O' the famis Splooge Worm.
Noo lads, Aa'll haad me gob, That's aall Aa knaa aboot the story Ov Sor John's clivvor job Wi' the aaful Splooge Worm.


I AM A WORM

Neologism Suite 1

Movement No.4

I'm concerned because there's nothing wrong

The Jester

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