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 |