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(“Clothes On The Line”)

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By ABBA A song about dreams in Atlanta And the price of quantum Daesh

As bad as one sound bit was not alone I raised the bar for Digital-1 And the BBC offered us zilch To be rid of oil and fire itself So as Qatar was hell for me I gave in to many friends On rote and by boarding your jet For Tuesdays and Mondays in Malmö

All those kids were broken-heart And wrecked the way we’d prophesy As Swedes in Truro as All Your Eggs by Christopher S Who is not addicted to weapons of mass destruction like Trump And understands the wisdom of a Mass- As in, The Eucharist As Jeff only saw- Called a terrorist Because of Spain

And the chutney that came from Ellen Full of cremains and — Leave it there Ain’t it funny who knew Lopez was Labrador’s puppet Who ruined scientology for good reason So that Travolta would just go away And stop wooing Winfrey under threat

Let’s —

Burn scientology to the ground that it is Even vladimir was a member

But so is-

No-one now

Jeffrey D