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Jan-14-2007 12:33

The forest is cold and creepy
a little lamb is feeling sleepy

yet it dare not close it's eyes
enclosed by so much horror and vice

the sun ceased to shine his light
the wolf will be out there tonight

you better be quiet now and hush
for he will trace you down in every bush

little lamb make sure he cannot hear
how much your heart is pouding of fear

the wind makes branches bow and squeak
the wolf is playing hide and seek

oh villainous creature of the dark
every night you leave your mark

always you strike as swift as a knife
for God's sake spare this lamb her life

the night made place for another day
how and why I cannot say

our little lamb carried on it's way
so close it was to be a prey

Jan-14-2007 13:49

What are the bugles blowin' for?" said Files-on-Parade.
"To turn you out, to turn you out", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What makes you look so white, so white?" said Files-on-Parade.
"I'm dreadin' what I've got to watch", the Colour-Sergeant said.
For they're hangin' Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play,
The Regiment's in 'ollow square -- they're hangin' him to-day;
They've taken of his buttons off an' cut his stripes away,
An' they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

"What makes the rear-rank breathe so 'ard?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's bitter cold, it's bitter cold", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What makes that front-rank man fall down?" said Files-on-Parade.
"A touch o' sun, a touch o' sun", the Colour-Sergeant said.
They are hangin' Danny Deever, they are marchin' of 'im round,
They 'ave 'alted Danny Deever by 'is coffin on the ground;
An' 'e'll swing in 'arf a minute for a sneakin' shootin' hound --
O they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'!

Jan-14-2007 13:50

"'Is cot was right-'and cot to mine", said Files-on-Parade.
"'E's sleepin' out an' far to-night", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"I've drunk 'is beer a score o' times", said Files-on-Parade.
"'E's drinkin' bitter beer alone", the Colour-Sergeant said.
They are hangin' Danny Deever, you must mark 'im to 'is place,
For 'e shot a comrade sleepin' -- you must look 'im in the face;
Nine 'undred of 'is county an' the Regiment's disgrace,
While they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

"What's that so black agin' the sun?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's Danny fightin' 'ard for life", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What's that that whimpers over'ead?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's Danny's soul that's passin' now", the Colour-Sergeant said.
For they're done with Danny Deever, you can 'ear the quickstep play,
The Regiment's in column, an' they're marchin' us away;
Ho! the young recruits are shakin', an' they'll want their beer to-day,
After hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

Jan-14-2007 16:45

Gawd you're a cheery lot ;)

Jan-14-2007 17:43

damn...

99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer :)

Jan-14-2007 18:24

I'm with you mate, my literary prowess extends as far, 'There once was a girl from Nantucket"

Jan-14-2007 19:57

Candy is dandy
But liquor
Is quicker.

--Ogden Nash

Jan-14-2007 21:14

true DAT ara :)

Jan-14-2007 21:21

joins biggie in singing "99 bottles of beer"

take 1 down, pass it around... :)

This reply has been deleted by a Moderator

Jan-15-2007 01:54

Nope. If you think about it, there's really no such thing as 'spare' prozac. But I've got an oar with "666" engraved on it. Will that help?

Speaking of Canadian drinking poetry:

"The Bartail Cock"
By F.R. Scott

Rounding a look
Her lightened tips
Tackled my fincy
So I gave her the um con.
She was right, all tight,
But clan, did she have mass!

Hatting her pair
She rossed off her tum
Barred at the leer-tender
Tumbled her way to my fable
And sholding my hair
Lissed me on the kips.

I skoated in the fly!

Yay for spoonerisms.

Wow, I'm so literate I could French kiss a paper cut.