All manner of Hell are in the dripping tap,
It’s a combination of pain that I’ve set out to map.
It’s a Hundred ‘Bell Jars’ rolled into one,
Seventy ‘Gloomy Sundays’ breaking in song.
Its a Thousand ‘Bedlam’s’ falling to the sink,
A Million Drum Beats that drive you to drink.
Some dozen potions Dr Jekyll had drunk,
With a couple of ‘Screams’ by Edvard Munch.
A dollop of ‘Inferno’ , Add Two Stephen Kings,
To a Soupçon of ‘Sauron’ from ‘Lord of the Rings’.
A pound of ‘Renfield’ eating flies in his Cell,
An Oz of old Charon and the river he dwells.
A slice of ‘Psycho’ when the blood starts to spurt,
With a portion of ‘Alien’ bursting John Hurt.
It’s a Gallon of Poe with his ‘Tell Tale Heart’,
To a Pint of the drill the Dentist imparts.
It’s every Drunk Singer condensed in a drip,
A Crèche load of Children in a Tizzy and a Fit.
It’s a Chorus of Cats disturbing your rest,
And four Slurpers of Soup for a dinner guest.
And so to cap it all off , after searching around,
No Washer of size could ever be found.