Bird lime (Time in prison) / Cockney Rhyming Slang

Casting a butcher’s hook (casting a look)
On the babbling brook
Of her tears,
I raced our old apple and pears (our stairs),
Life had removed the syrup of figs (the wigs)
And the frontiers
From my ethics
Every remorse from my north and south (from my mouth)
She bid me not to battlecruiser (don’t be a boozer)
For waiting is harder
For there will be grief
And doors always close on a tea leaf (thief);
But I, kicked right on my Khyber Pass (on the arse)
By her soundness
Turned to a rock
Only able to cast a veil of Laugh n Joke (smoke)
On her sweet face – until bird lime (time -in prison-)
Made her sublime,
A memory,
From the time when I longed for bees and honey (money)

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