“It’s a total disgrace”,
he told us today, “My very own station, two million they’ll pay”,
“To a drug
running bimbo, I really don’t follow, really and truly, it’s too much to swallow”
But they’ve
dusted off Mike, he’s holed up next door, and not for much longer will the Corby’s
be poor
The “Boogie Board
Bimbo” is back in the news, at a six star resort she’s hitting the booze
Woman’s Day paid
a bundle for a snap with a beer, to go on the cover of their mag over here
A day in a spa to
consider her life, after four kilos of weed got her nine years of strife
A convicted drug
smuggler, let out on parole, at least she won’t need to go back on the dole
But back here in
Sydney, Gittany got plenty, and unless he comes clean, he’ll be in there for
twenty
But girlfriend
Rachelle was not to be seen, she grabbed Seven’s cheque and fled from the scene
Maybe she woke
with a new revelation, and quickly departed for a lengthy vacation
When we saw her
on tele on Sunday night, most of us thought, “She just isn’t right”
So I sit here and
wonder as I type out these lines, just how many get paid at the end of their
crimes?
Financial gain
from crime has been banned, but it don’t seem to work, it’s supply and demand
The papers will
pay ‘cause we puppets will read it, the stations pay heaps ‘cause their revenue needs it
So please put my money
in an account overseas; I’ll just change my name and become Balinese
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