I don’t like fruit, and you can’t force me,
I’d rather eat some rancid horse-meat.
Banana is a garbage food
(I really wish it tasted good).
The doctor whinges in my ear:
“Your teeth’ll fall out in the year.”
I hadn’t dreamt’ this food with seeds
Would blight me with antique disease.
This pirate sickness I have got;
My bleeding gums and fungal rot –
It really is the pits it’s true,
My skin has gone all red and blue.
However, Doc;
Despite the ample evidence,
You’d think I’d be quite off the fence.
Yet even in the face of this,
You give me citrus, I will hiss.
I will not eat that wicked fruit!
I will not Doc, you silly brute!
I’ve not got love for watermelon;
Apples make in me a felon;
Passionfruit and sour lemon –
I’d send them all to Outer Yemen.