There was an old boy named Jim,
No-one thought much of him,
He got in the bath,
And scrubbed off the wrath,
Concensus did change,
Aren't people so strange?
Now when Jim is about,
The folk do all shout,
Here comes himself,
"Jim look at yourself"
Your self worth is high
And they buy him a pie.
People aren't fickle,
They knew of jims pickle,
They felt for Jim,
They could not make true,
Because of Jim's smell,
The urge to help him,
Was repressed
From feeling un-well.