Peaches Geldof

Way back in the eighties, to save African babies,

 Band Aid made the grey skies look sunny.

The nation was telt off by an angry Bob Geldof,

 that he wanted our fuckin money.

So it seems fair to paint this man as a saint,

Brought joy to the whole of the third world,

Knighted by royal appointment, his one disappointment,

was spawning a spoilt little rich girl.

in the vein of Sir Bob, with his filthy gob,

It’s best just to say this blunt,

though her father has held off, it’s clear Peaches Geldoff,

Is a vacuous celebrity cunt.

So she has a famous dad, but it’s just plain old mad,

That this suddenly makes her enlightening,

Itv have sank that low, they’ve gave her a chatshow,

A guff fest thats so bad it’s frightening.

She presides over us minions with her brilliant opinions,

But it’s easy to silence this skank,

Start a discussion, of why Michael Hutchence

Was choking for a wank

And since it’s his daughter, Sir Bob really oughta,

Have a word with poor Peaches some day,

There’s no need to be freakin, do it this weekend,

 ‘cause we know that he’s not keen on Mondays.