My 'not my agent', said to me,
'I know how you can pay my fee,
Quit each little cancer stick,
Bite your nails to the quick,
Manicures are quite a waste
And massages in such poor taste;
Soon you will get your divorce
And proceeds of house of course'
And when I said, 'you do offend,
On these things I do not spend',
He argued with me once again
As shut my mouth; counted to ten;
He said, 'hourly rate of fifty quid,
Is my one and only bid,
Not much to make one's dreams come true',
I asked, 'do you mean for me or you?'