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Once I had a friend called Oliver Twisted,

Who used to think he was a brand and gifted,

Stupendisly handsome, Beautifully smart,

He had no heart.



On his own he was all alone,

He wanted more than he ever got.



Once I had a friend called Oliver Twisted,

Who took life so slow that he occasionally missed it,

Permanently senseless, never on his brain, he had no brain.



Once I had a friend called Oliver Twisted,

Who lived on the edge or so he insisted,

Inteligently careless, hated rock and roll, he had no soul.

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