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Absolutly Correct (Only notes will be sent) Mostly Correct, yet... The lyrics are wrong Very Wrong Not the lyrics to MY NAME IS JOHN WELLINGTON WELLS
Severity is 5
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Lyric Body	Oh! my name is John Wellington Wells, I'm a dealer in magic and spells, In blessings and curses And ever-filled purses, In prophecies, witches, and knells. If you want a proud foe to "make tracks"-- If you'd melt a rich uncle in wax-- You've but to look in On the resident Djinn, Number seventy, Simmery Axe! Walter Passmore played J.W. Wells in the 1898 revival at the Savoy Theatre. We've a first-class assortment of magic; And for raising a posthumous shade, With effects that are comic or tragic, There's no cheaper house in the trade. Love-philtre--we've quantities of it! And for knowledge if any one burns, We keep an extremely small prophet, a prophet Who brings us unbounded returns: For he can prophesy With a wink of his eye, Peep with security Into futurity, Sum up your history, Clear up a mystery, Humour proclivity For a nativity--for a nativity; He has answers oracular, Bogies spectacular, Tetrapods tragical, Mirrors so magical, Facts astronomical, Solemn or comical, And, if you want it, he Makes a reduction on taking a quantity! Oh! If any one anything lacks, He'll find it all ready in stacks, If he'll only look in Number seventy, Simmery Axe! He can raise you hosts Of ghosts, And that without reflectors; And creepy things With wings, And gaunt and grisly spectres. He can fill you crowds Of shrouds, And horrify you vastly; He can rack your brains With chains, And gibberings grim and ghastly! Then, if you plan it, he Changes organity, With an urbanity Full of Satanity, Vexes humanity With an inanity Fatal to vanity-- Driving your foes to the verge of insanity! Barring tautology, In demonology, 'Lectro-biology, Mystic nosology, Spirit philology, High-class astrology, Such is his knowledge, he Isn't the man to require an apology! Oh! My name is John Wellington Wells, I'm a dealer in magic and spells, In blessings and curses And ever-filled purses, In prophecies, witches, and knells. If any one anything lacks, He'll find it all ready in stacks, If he'll only look in On the resident Djinn, Number seventy, Simmery Axe!
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