Poor Fritz.................he's German,
He sits at the end of our road crying from our vicious attack,
OH, German , German do you remember how your father made clocks?
Your mother was ugly,and knew it, but still went out!!!!!!!!!!
Scary spiders dance on your face, is it to ferment a dog?
red, bed fred jed spread a little monkey on the ribs of justice.
You have black hair like Adolf,
And you talk funny like the gutmunch gang,
Span the bridge and STOP EATING SAUSAGES.
POOR FRITZ!
Reason for writing:
The events surounding me moving to an area of outstanding natural beauty
Birth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Andrew Virgo.