Quoth the raving

Is this self-referential? Only so far as it isn't that. Et tu, tutu! Too too solid flesh would melt into a fishy on a little dishy, ran screaming into Doris Day. Out, out brief candle! Life's but a damned spot, a poor tomorrow / That mops and mows an egg upon the floor / And then is raven nevermore.

    Will there be lampstands still for three?
    Quoth the raving "Don't mind me!"
    But he was too disturbing underwent
    And brought the spider plant from Omsk to Gwent.

    How many fives? And maybe two
    I'll call it Physicist for you.
    How do you sing when five miles long
    Vulcan, vegan, strictly bong!

    And fish, old fish, familiar now
    Astrophysicist, navy cow
    Salad days and spinach nights
    Read the cauliflower his rights.

And make sure the woodlice are candyfloss by Seine.