| "How Soft the Raisin, Son (with Matt Griffin)" | |
| I must confess I love word play; conceits I shall not shun; and ever value on my way the nous to devise a pun. I ken a man who keeps pet lice and loves his pubic one; he keeps it in fresh bread-roll dough: his louse of the rising bun. I know a rodent full of pep who lives to jog for fun; he ever measures every step: the mouse of the sizing run. A Prussian junker changed his ways and utilized his gun; to win the freedom of some drunk: a souse of the prizing hun. a convent-worker told me once just how his wife was won; his abbess had proclaimed his want: that spouse-advertising nun. I should not hestitate to joke or analyse a pun; for just an ordinary bloke, the hows and the whys are done. | |