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Facekicker

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This one is for Mygnr's favourite Norwegian muscle man - Lithium

Down this road, in a gym far away,
a young man named Lithium was heard to say,
"no matter what i do, my legs won't grow"
he tried leg extensions, leg curls, and the leg presses too,
trying to cheat, these sissy workouts he'd do...

from the corner of the gym where the big men train,
through a cloud of chalk and the midst of pain
where the noise is made with big forty fives,
a deep voice bellowed as he wrapped his knees.
a very big man called Facekicker with legs like trees.

laughing as he snatched another plate from the stack
chalking his hands and monstrous back,
said, "boy, stop lyin, don't say you've forgotten,
the trouble with you is you ain't been SQUATTIN'.

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This one is for Mygnr's favourite Norwegian muscle man - Lithium

Down this road, in a gym far away,

a young man named Lithium was heard to say,

"no matter what i do, my legs won't grow"

he tried leg extensions, leg curls, and the leg presses too,

trying to cheat, these sissy workouts he'd do...

from the corner of the gym where the big men train,

through a cloud of chalk and the midst of pain

where the noise is made with big forty fives,

a deep voice bellowed as he wrapped his knees.

a very big man called Facekicker with legs like trees.

laughing as he snatched another plate from the stack

chalking his hands and monstrous back,

said, "boy, stop lyin, don't say you've forgotten,

the trouble with you is you ain't been SQUATTIN'.

You're still struggling with the originality, I see. I've read that before on the Misc.

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I wrote a few poems, though I'm not very good at rhyming, so it kind of has a comedy tail off at the end...sorry.

There once was a chap called Len

Who could smoke a packet of ten

He decided to quit

At which he was quite shit

And is now lighting up once again.

There was a young Scot called Graeme

Guns songs, he could play 'em

He's now a star of YouTube

Impressing the mygnr noobs

Whilst championing the cause for Scottish independence.

There once was a redhead called Kim

Who chanced upon a whim

From the Netherlands she'd go

To Australia to sew

Now she designs bridal gowns and walks her puppy on the beach.

There was a young chap from Hull,

Whose life was moderately dull,

He found him a wife

For the rest of his life

And now she has to look at his Guns N' Roses tattoo every day.

There was a young chap called Deeds,

Who had never been to Leeds,

Grace says he's missing out,

On some proper Yorkshire stout,

Because everyone knows Americans make rubbish beer.

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There once was an Italian called Miser,

Who got older, but none the wiser,

His girlfriend had slime,

In her vagine

And that all ended terribly anyway.

There once was a lass called P4A

Who worked in insurance by day

At night she would post

Comments in Anything Goes

And has continued to be one of the longest-serving contributors to the biggest Guns N' Roses forum on the Internet.

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There once was a Yank called McCoy,

Country music, he would enjoy,

He looks like Jon Bon,

Taking selfies upon...

The chance of finding a girlfriend on eharmony.

There once was a chap called Amir,

Whose cooking would make you fear,

Going near recipe books,

As your food wouldn't look,

Like it was made in a Michelin starred restaurant.

Just as a NB guys, I'm not looking to offend anybody, so I hope they don't upset anyone, and they you are flattered that I wrote poetry about you.

Edited by Gracii Guns
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There was a young man named Sandy,

Who was terribly dandy,

From London, the gent,

To study English, he went,

And that's why he can probably write a better Limerick than this.

There was a chap called Marc,

Who spent his youth in the dark...

...rooms of LA,

Developing photos to make his pay,

And now has published an awesome book which any self-respecting Guns fan should purchase. ;)

Ok, it's gone 2am, I'm out of poetry now. I hope that I've not lost many friends in the process. Night!

Edited by Gracii Guns
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