A Nonsense Confection
Won’t you dance a little closer, said the Polo to the Mint,
I think I like the scent of you, so can you take a hint?
Let’s go off to the Chocolate Bar, the haunt of treacle tarts,
Where we can dance the Bon Bon Waltz and seek old Cupid’s darts.
I’m very sorry, Polo, the Mint she did reply,
But I cannot sing this song with you, our time does not draw nigh,
Please go and find a Monster Bar or a Jelly Baby’s soul,
For I am really not, you see, the Mint who has a hole.