I'll do a poem from the pen of the inimitable Les Barker. For the joy that's in it:

QUASIMODO

An unlucky man that Quasimodo
The local people said;
He used to be six foot three
But a bell fell on his head
Pigeons used to.crap on his hat:
Quasimado was born to lose;
He'd look up, open-mouthed, in dismay
And his pigeons all flew round.in twos.
Poor ole Quasimodo;
His back was giving him hell
And his sinuses were playing up;
It was a sinus he wasn't too well.

He staggered through the churchyard,
Haggard, halt and tired;
Quasimodo suffers on
Though his sick note has expired.
He bought a new car one summer;
He was unfortunate to tell the truth; For, within an hour, the interior light had been damaged by a rhino
And a sperm whale fell on the roof.
He used to lose on swings and roundabouts,
Dodgems, ghost trains, water chutes, caterpillar and carousel;
He'd get chewing gum out of contraceptive machines
(And vice versa)
And his sinuses weren't very well.

He'd try to toll the bells
Before he went to lunch
But he couldn't reach the bellrope
So he had to play a hunch;
Then he'd go up to the belfry,
Where the air is clear and calm,
With a flask and some panadol butties:
The lunchpack of Notre Dame.
But where Quasimodo was really unlucky
Was with the mademoiselles;
They always wanted nasal sex
And his sinuses weren't very well.

He once fell out of a helicopter
Cos the lady loved Milk Tray.
They had a box marked 'For the sick' outside the cathedral
And he filled it everyday.
One day an actress arrived at the door
And asked if the bishop was in;
He'd asked her to call round at teatime
For some bread, wine and cardinal sin.
Quasimodo, immediately smitten,
Tried to chat up the mademoiselle;
He'd have used his magnificent diction
But his sinuses weren't very well.
Though he knew she'd not want a cripple,
Still he lived in hopes;
He was only a lowly bellringer
But he'd love to have shown her the ropes.

She retired to the bishop's quarters;
Quasimodo was in tears on his knees,
When the girl's anguished voice cried 'Rape!'
And Quasimodo, rushing in, said 'yes please.'
The bishop caught him with a mitre in the midriff,
Which mitre been why he fell;
The bishop shook him till the paracetamols rattled
And his sinuses weren't very well.
'Let's fight a duel in the belfry,
lt's a matter of honour, you know'.
And the bishop had to agree because
He'd been on her a minute ago.
The two men stood, back to hunch:
It was bats at fifteen paces;
At the fourth pace the bishop fell out of the window
Cos belfries are very small places.

Quasimodo walked proud from the belfry
With the lady at his side;
They kissed in mutual adoration
And she caught sinusitis and died.
In no time at all, about a fortnight or so,
The law arrived on the scene
With a genial, 'Bonsoir, tout le monde,
Je suis Dixon de Notre Dame Green.'
He said, 'Bonjour, bonjour, bonjour,'
And, in French, 'Quest-ce que c'est?
I am informed that you are brokenhearted
And I've come to make a cardiac arrest
Quasimodo was put in la nick
And he died that night in his cell;
His will to live had been taken away
And his sinuses weren't very well.

Author: Les Barker.