Sometimes I think it would be nice…
If I could grab the air just like a rug
And wrap it round me, nice and snug
And if I didn’t make a sound
No one would know I was around
I’d watch my friends all laugh and play
And go about their merry way
But if any of them came too near
I’d make them all but faint with fear
By whispering softly in their ear
“The Dread Pirate Roberts is here”
But then I’d laugh and drop my rug
And maybe give my friend a hug
So my friend would be sure to see
That the ghost was only me
And I’m not The Dread Pirate Roberts.
My nose it grows and grows and grows
And then it grows some more
My nose it grows and grows and grows
Until it hits the floor
It is unfortunate for me you see
If ever I chance to snore
For my nose’s length lends awesome strength
To produce a nostricular roar!
Verily.
It was shocking to me
to wake up and see
a plethora of animals
where they should not be
A twitterpated mongoose, spinning like a kite
A mollycoddled wombat, spoiling for a fight
A dreadlock-sporting walrus, shaking what he’s got
A sequin-spangled llama, grooving on the spot
A multicoloured kestrel, talking to a mouse
A hardcore MC penguin, bringing down the house
But please forgive me
if I’m a little at sea
with so many animals
all strangers to me
And really instead
I’d go back to bed
if all these crazy animals
would just stop dancing on my head.
Sadly wailed the lonesome pant:
No greater sorrow hath pants e’er known
Than to be cleft in twain and left alone
And so be cursed anon to roam
O’er desert sand and ocean foam
Through distant lands both foul and fair
Perchance one day to find my pair
For in plural pants are ever born
And so they stay though frayed or torn
And less than half is a pant so cleft
Than a trouser pair not so bereft
And sorrow is weaved through my warp and weft
For I was born to be both right and left
To be joined so two may be but one
And cling together ’pon rounded bum
To encase two legs is the trouser’s call
For a pant alone must surely fall
But the breath of a dog is a pant sans-pair
Halitosis expired into summer air
Worth naught to neither man nor beast
(except, mayhap for wiping grease)
So hearken to my tale of woe
and take this with thee, ere thee go
"No greater sorrow hath pants e’er known
Than to be cleft in twain and left alone"
Windy wyndy chilly chill
The wind blows where it will
The sky is blue
And the leaves are red
But all is still
Inside my head
"Fie! Avast!" the pirate yelled
and menaced with his sword upheld
but puzzled when he soon beheld
that everyone was laughing
The pirate wondered what could be
the source of such hilarity
when looking down he chanced to see
that his pants were round his ankles
Alas that this should be the day
Bill’s vanity would hold its sway
for he really did not like the way
his belt bunched up his trousers
But Bill he did not count his woes
He leapt and sliced around his toes
And sallied forth to slay his foes
Who had doubled up with laughter
And when he took the ship at last
he tied their belts all to the mast
and all the seas through which he passed
knew the fear of Beltless Bill