Take it from me, you sucker for tea, if you'd just take a swig I know you would dig the flavour of this unbearable brew. It sits in your mouth and just doesn't go south. And it drowns your taste buds as your drunken mouth floods, with a languid, syrupy goo. You swirl it around with a slime-slushing sound, and it flows through your teeth and it then goes beneath the frilly flesh of your tongue. You'll be dying for a second helping. It's a really odd brew I just have to tell you. Not one precedent set - not a tea like it yet, nor one likely in the future, too. If you just would succumb, I'm quite sure you would hum with contented delight, as your lips purse so tight that they feel like they'll almost turn blue. Yes, it has to be tried! Have I ever yet lied? I tell you the truth, more heady than vermouth - its praises cannot be oversung. You'll be dying for a second helping. Just try it, you'll see - if only for me. Just one tiny sip. It's not poison, don't trip. Come on, you can do it, please do. If you don't, you'll regret - I'd be willing to bet - that you passed up the chance to feel your tongue dance like some beast that's escaped from a zoo. I'm telling you, man... You can drink it. You can! I'm picturing it now, I'm imagining just how your keen lips to the cup will have clung. You'll be dying for a second helping. This tea, shear poetry! It's a great symphony, it's a prized work of art, it's life's most yummy part, it's the drink of the noblest who's who. Ah... I can see you've come 'round, that you've finally found the courage to get past and to try it at last. This choice you will surely not rue. Yes, all hope is lost. Did I not warn of the cost? You will need more and more. Here, permit me to pour. By it's spell, you are truly now stung. Are you ready for your second helping? |