Call it that if you like. Calling a tail a leg doesn’t make it one.

When I was a kid, I had some Charles Lloyd records.

Thou elvish-marked, abortive, rooting hog, 239 Thou that wast sealed in thy nativity 240 The slave of nature and the son of hell, 241 Thou slander of thy heavy mother’s womb, 242 Thou loathèd issue of thy father’s loins, 243 Thou rag of honor, thou detested—

And thence I only come again  Just to pack up and run, Somewhere where life may less be pain,  And somewhere where there's sun.

Written By Edward Lear

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