Shantey Shantey Shantey. Shantey Shantey Shantey… Sangalo…
HIS HOLY WHIZNESS
I may sing along. I may love the beat. I may even jive to it the few times I jive at all. But. I have never seen a duller whiz kid in my life. Maybe the fact that he is a self-proclaimed “Wheez Keed” plays a part in the dullness. After all, the lizard still finds time to hail itself. Even that lizard must have first performed outrageous feats – like falling from an Iroko tree – to deserve its own self-adulation. Why should I ask my parents if Wheez Keed is bad gan? My father will definitely never have heard of that name, and if I spell it to him, he would cringe instantly and feign a heart attack that measures 9... on the Richter scale. My mom, despite being a deaconess of The Apostolic Church likes to be worldly, in terms of songs, sometimes.