|Photo: h/t Evening Standard|
Flies into a rage
If we cannot manage
His name. His outrage
Is like that of a beast, once at large,
Now confined in a cage.
Or like a thespian who, unfit for the stage,
Must substitute butter for marge
Since he cleans a garage
For a menial wage
Which is scarcely sufficient to buy a cabbage.
So his friends, to prevent him from getting too peevy
Make sure he is frequently seen on the TV.