Of Wolf and Lamb
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
joins biggie in singing "99 bottles of beer"
take 1 down, pass it around... :)
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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.
LMAO that was a good five minutes of translation to get that one.
Fiddler did you make a booboo? ;)