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Rated: E · Poetry · Nonsense · #1675471
A silly song I wrote for a friend's baby before he was born.
On Tuesday I was a rum-runner
On Thursday I was a gimp
And for half an hour on Sunday night
I was a Bonobo chimp

Oh mothers tell your children
Not to wear a jock strap on their head
For if it cuts off their airways for too many years
They just might wind up dead

There is a fish in Jaipur India
Who’s Kirstie Alley’s number one fan
She has her picture on everything in her house
Except the rubbish can

My wife her name is Richard
And yet I am not wed
Some nights I get so lonely
I bring jars of jelly and peanut butter to bed

There is a tree in Moosejaw Saskatchewan
With a ninety-seven degree kink
It bares fruit that taste like rubber tires
Its bark is mottled pink

Vermillion is a color
Not so for fair notlob
When I order corn at a fancy restaurant
I only eat the cob

The jury asked the bailiff
If San Quentin could accommodate a mule
She said there shan’t be a problem
If he don’t try to use the pool

There is a man made of sulphur-dioxide
Who swore he could not freeze to death
He charmed and wooed all the beautiful girls
Until they whiffed his breath

Perchance you have been begging
That I quickly end this song
I concede your point and mercifully
I shall no longer go on
© Copyright 2010 Edgar Gerafalo (indigo at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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