| Mrs. Butterworth by K Hoffman |
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This is an ode to the gagged Mrs. Butterworth bottle I had in my bedroom back in the eighties. Mrs. Butterworth why won't you talk?  Mrs, Butterworth Woman of my Dreams And why won't you move or walk? I just want to converse Nothing odd or perverse You sit here on my table I am sure that you are able But you don't say a word Need we teach you like a bird Has the cat got your tongue Or need it be sung I know you’re not a mute You talk to the man in the suit I've seen you on the telly You know my name is Kelly So we're not strangers And there are no dangers In talking to me Why can’t you see I want someone to talk to Why can't it be you |
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