Struggle, it’s been a mope of a day
The wookies are howling
The tram dishes fowling
And starving my future is all in the way.
Scrickle, all of the time coming down
Not a pot for a penny
Not a plot for my granny
And failing to twoogle and muntle around.
But now it’s all mustle
In a biggle bun blash
And I’m quite sure my bustle
Will end with a crash.