From the 70s was a brand named Creed
English? French? Not sure, Green Irish Tweed?
Sold out to BlackRock
The majority of their stock
How about renaming the brand Ambrox Greed?
So the Apostle of scents using urine
Has disdain for the fragrance that your in?
Text him: "Hey! Take a hike!
My nose you can't psyche!
And also you're no bloody Turin!"
"We need more Ambrox!" said the new CEO.
"Pineapple was 10 years ago!"
"Look at Mont Blanc and Dior,
if you want to know more."
"It's all about Ambox, you know?"
Urine? Ah, you mean the indolics!
And, yes, that other stuff, frankly, was bollocks.
I like my white flowers neat,
That stuff was too icky sweet.
And, no, I am not an indole-a-holic!
Denying that your Indole-a-holic
Decries a fact apostolic
One shouldn't deride
A secretion deliciously diabolic
Stay quiet with an onslaught of sucrose?
Even if the person gets too close?
My philosophy's simple:
My body's a temple,
And I have to look after my glucose.
Despite varied and numerous entreaties,
To have someone still overdosing on sweeties,
It seems my objection,
Was met with rejection,
And the person doesn't mind diabetes.
There once was a young man from Bath
At least it wasn't Madame
“Now this” cried the woman in suede
“Is how perfume should be made!”
All dressed up in yellow
With a voice hardly mellow
Said “It tastes like good pink lemonade!”
The talent in this great threadHurrah, they're back!
I filled up my pool with cologne
Then called up Sylvester Stallone
We bathed in the scent
And smelled heaven-sent
Whilst respecting a two meter zone
The talent in this great thread
Makes American idol look so sad
So I went to meet Simon
To get him to sign us
"Alas", he said " I can't, I smell too bad"
I'm not sure there's a perfume named 'Rocky'
If there was, I'm damn sure it'd be cocky
A scent for a jock
With pecs made of rock
And a cock (due to drugs) somewhat floppy
During the great Corona virus
I got locked down at home with Iris
Smelling great at the start
She started to fart
And kept for herself my old wireless
There was an old beggar of Lyon
Who always went on and on and on...
'Oh, that smell of mace
But not in your face'
Referring to Cacharel pour L'Homme
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