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A Eulogy in Verse to a Popular Gourmet
We mourn today the sad demise
Of Reverend Desmond Wesman-Wise
He's dead and gone, though Fran survives
Along with several other wives.
A man of God, and just and wise
His spirit now above us flies
Through clear azure celestial skies
And no more wails the awful cries
Of anguish and of sheer surprise
That, since he was lobotomised,
His mental state epitomised.
This nation which he appetised
Under his assumed gourmet guise
Of Gordon Blue, these days relies
For budget food (for modern lives)
On Desmond's famous flies eye pies.
Those flies eye pies, those flies eye pies
Oh how we love those flies eye pies.
No mere man could hypothesise
Why flies eyes make such tasty pies.
We love the flies, we love their eyes
In eyesy, flysy, flies eye pies.
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