Ant Smith
donate to Ant Smith
Print

Long Poetry

Max Love

CHORUS:

Max Love - he's sat in the snug

Max Love - he tries to use his looks

Max Love - he's naughty and bad

Max Love - he's a media slag

Max acquired a posture stoop

From wanking on the loo

Hunched upon the porcelain

In a black and leather suit

Now his gaze is crotchward led

Espying camel hooves

Look at how his eyes will bulge

When he's eyeing you

Max insists on emptying

His ballbag everyday

You can see him a leaking

When he's on the stage

Now his trousers can not hide

His putrid seamen stains

look at how his pockets twitch

When he sees his game

CHORUS

Max can't even concentrate

On breathing in and out

He makes an awful grunting sound

When he opens his sad mouth

He never learned to speak aloud

He only gurgles when he pouts

Look at all the specks of spit

He let's dribble out

Max is hopelessly addicted to

The one thing he can't get

So he is utterly consumed

By the need for sex

It's unfortunate that he exudes

Desperation from his pores

Look at how he likes to spill

His barren wasted spores

CHORUS

Max has hands that creep upon

Strangers' naked flesh

When he's in a crowd of fans

That he likes to rent

Hoping for that victim type

That only can say yes

Look at how he's looking for

Someone to molest

Max is what you might call

A total fanny rat

Like Frankie off of X Factor

He's another twat

He likes to think there's a bit of him

In everyone he meets

Look at how he lumbers round

A flashing his bum cheeks

Max Love - he's sat in the snug

Max Love - he tries to use his looks

Max Love - he says he likes it rough

Max Love - he a little runt

Long Poetry