Graeme Grierson, the greengrocer from Gretna,
Betcha never met such a ghastly grapefruit-seller and garden pea-giver
What a goof, he’s as grim as they come.
Grey-haired and yellow-bellied, he’s a horridly fetid old creep,
Cat-calling like a coward from behind the cashbox –
“Woods ye loch a tickle ay mah limes, hen? Al let ye gie th’ zest oota me!”
Ah yes, a right old character, a sordid fellow in fact,
The sort of man you wouldn’t buy a used car from,
Nor cucumber to be exact!
Oh! He’s cumbersome, never charming,
And apologies for his appalling use of apostrophes,
He’s a catastrophe, two strawberries short of a punnet.
And while his grapes may be seedless,
Sadly the same can’t be said for this seedy get –
The gruesome Graeme Grieson,
The greengrocer from Gretna,
The good-for-nothing hen-heckler,
Ne’er-do-well and greens-seller,
They should call him Loyd, for he’s such a gross man indeed!
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