Ding Dong

Fulfilling a special request:

 

Ding Dong

Ding dong, the clock strikes ten.

It’s time to leave, again.

There’s a guy works in McDonald’s

thinks he’s Elvis.

In the middle of himself

there is a pelvis.

(I couldn’t think of anything else to rhyme).

But he also has a mind and a heart

and he’ll give you time;

his time; the time of day.

He’s in touch with his feminine side

but he’s not (very) gay.

Anyway:

He’ll give you a smile or smirk

and a friendly word

to help you along your way.

For those who don’t play ball,

that’s a helping hand. Onto the street.

He’s firm but fair.

The only thing he lacks is hair.

“The Bullet”; “Cue ball”,

He really thinks he’s something. He is:

King Ding-a-ling.

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