There lived an old man by the sea
As naughty, as naughty as a man can be!
His cheeks were pink and his eyes crinkled
When his mind thought up naughty tricks
If you’re in wonder as to who this is
It’s none other than our AarAarGee
The grand old man full of fun
He whips up some whacky tales
And joining in the merriment
Are few rascals of his kind
Ruddier cheeks and cheekier tales
Happen as sun goes down
Old whiskey in fine old men
Goes down well, hand after hand
One fine day walked in a fine young lad
Into his lane by the sea
Aaraargee couldn’t resist and called him “Nutter”
While he was as soft and nice as butter
An old lady on hearing this added to the insult
Calling him “soft” n “battered”
The fine young lad sat down and cried
While plotting his revenge, fast and swift
His revenge was fast while hell’s fires raged
And here’s what emerged
For no reason of his, when called names
What should he do, you tell me!
Poets aren’t soft, yet they’re gentle
Oh so nice, they won’t hurt a fly
So he spared Aaaraargee, the old man by the sea
And the old lady who lives on a farm
Coz’ poets are a breed quite apart
Oh so gentle, oh so nice!
So the old man sits by sea
His whisky in hand, eyes crinkled up
And as for the lady
Oh! She’s fat!
Close
"So the old man sits by his sea
being swallowed up by his -cheap whisky
And as for the lady Oh! She’s fat!
jealously guarding her withering hats
and as for the poet, this dandy and delicately carving
his poems have made him, the new prince charming."
hee hee just playing
nice theme.
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The latest goes like -
"So the old man sits by the sea
Sipping his precious B/L
And as for the lady
She's worn battle dress
And swears
"Poet, you're dead meat!
Reply | Report Abuse
The latest goes like -
"So the old man sits by the sea
Sipping his precious B/L
And as for the lady
She's worn battle dress
And swears
"Poet, you're dead meat!
Reply | Report Abuse