There’s Nowt As Queer As Folk

I have a technique
To show the the kind of folk
Everyone’s a freak
All mirrors and smoke

Some people need a push
All we need’s a cliff
And then there’s those that rush
Always worried stiff

And what about the mad
Have they lost their wits?
Lost on the launching pad
When their mind did the splits

And finally the sane
Or those that think they are
Put them in the rain
They’ll soon stand out bizarre

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