Georgie was a sour lad,
His hygiene was so very bad
He’d brush his teeth but once a week
And in his unders, he had streaks
He never often bathed and so,
He’d summon flies where ere he’d go
The stains up on his dress coat crusted,
His weight left seams oft stressed and busted
But he was a man of wealth,
Girls overlooked his state of health
They’d throw away their sense of pride
Just to be seen by his side.
He hasn’t married to this day,
Seems all the girls have ran away
For even though they tried and tried,
His foulness couldn’t be denied
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