Palace Of Wisdom Best Kebab & Pizza

Like a little boy lost on the lonely fen
I wander through each chartered street
Past scrums of swarthy gentlemen
Half-cut and on a quest for meat

Little Lamb, who made thee?
Who framed thy fearful symmetry?
Who bestowed on you the honour
Of becoming spinning doner?

In every pie of every van
In every lukewarm dreg of beer
In every empty Fosters can
The mind-forg'd mammaries appear

O Rose, thou art sick!
Cheesy chips and a mixed kebab to boot?
Yet, somehow, 'neath the moon's sweet gaze
Thy double-chin looks rather cute

'Oi, thou pilchard,' Rose lambastes
'I need a piss ' hold my kebab.'
See how the youthful harlot's curse
Sets jiggling her rolls of flab!

And whilst my dread foe alcohol
Didst bind my Nostrils, Eyes & Ears
My Rose-tree crouched beside the bins
And watered tarmac with her fears

This dark secret love
Did my life destroy
My invisible worm
Found her crimson bed of joy

For I into her garden stole
And in the night I veil'd my pole
And in the morning I did see
A heffer stretched beside of me

O Cruelty has a Human Heart
And Rose, a sunken Bovine Face
My breast doth ache with frigid shame
And burning scours my holy place

How did I stray so from the path
Whilst seeking that sweet golden clime?
Are such things done on Albion's shore
That love ' sweet love! ' becomes a crime?