You're a farce Mrs Marsh,

With your Colgate dental cream,

When you talk with your chalk

It enough to make me scream.

And if the liquid does get in

I couldn't give a stuff!

And you've got this tribe of rotten kids

Who say "My teeth are tuff".

" I won't use my neighbours loos,

Unless they're Harpic blue,

And full of fear, I won't go near,

Till they've been Baygoned too.

I Baygoned round the skirting boards,

And in the children’s cubby.

I Baygoned half the bed last night,

And almost killed my hubby.

And here comes Rita, with her ETA,

Our lunch will soon be spoilt,

As she thickly spreads, upon our bread,

A ton of salt and oil.

She says it's got five stars,

Does that mean it's the best?

It means it killed five rats from ten,

In health department tests.

And then there's the git, with the hairy lip,

Who stains the ladies clothes,

Then tries to prove he can remove

It with his Dynamo.

With ink and clay and beetroot,

And tomato sauce so red,

I'd like to dip his face in it,

And Dynamo his head.

And then there's Madge, who wears the badge,

That says "Palmolive’s Mild!",

I thought the ad was not too bad,

Up to the time she smiled.

She hasn't got too many teeth,

A very gappy grin.

I think she used Palmolive Green,

To soak her dentures in.

I've often said, the ad man head,

Must be linked to a telly,

When he creates his little mates,

To say your socks are smelly,

They fill up so much programme time,

With all those ads you hate,

It's no wonder "60 Minutes"

Only goes for twenty eight.