Have you will you can it be get ahold of your self potty brains filch mouth close your eyes focus on the finish line make a game out of it the answer is the daily rubble yabba dabba do don’t go please baby no I don’t care who did it
Tag: Poetry
End
All mutt rewind tails went cauliflower up knot
Clothes hinder yak conclude kingpin zebra it
Weaving benign butter seep voluminous did
Tandem cheesecake walking John angle bend
Winded jeepers kneel bomb sample edible end
Geo
Stegosaurus pop type volume operation hellion
Prototype procrastinate fool full hull doomed
Phytoplankton tension wasps Jewish various
Kite warriors crazed balloons rough ripe geo
Plucked plumes pliable cosplay mushroom ish
Beast
Right aim whatever if yawn barroom zoom ate
Mythological hydrogen groom foodie vaulting
Christ amiable sickly great yearly potato slap
Porcupine sellout pyromaniac eloquent beast
Yawning far collection tyrannical philosophy
Hill
Tub whip bomb rude took boat rip train beep
Crumb tomb lime dye seed crime blink dry um
Time dream on grey ream freeze polls green of
Ire climb from sworn debt hill run beer vent
Ole
Dip stipend move crown stiletto cook sworn
Wall ambient cacophony rangers yellow street
Beam whenever little beneficent queer each
Hanging mellow wallop treetop rowdy bean
Banana stoop went temp huge reputation ole
Jump Then
Ask as I say, well
Stupid is as stupid does, my dear
Yes, and you shouldn’t talk
With your mouth full.
Green light tells you to go.
Who decided that?
And why stop on red?
You see what I mean?
It just goes on and on!
I never! I always do.
Do you think the recipe
Is alive in his left hand?
Do you trust me?
Jump, then, for your life!
What’s It to You
He, he, high dee ho!
Come with me
Don’t drop the soap.
In the cave of evil things,
There’s a list of what to make
For Christmas dinner.
So go to the store,
And buy the trimmings,
And we’ll meet here
In the end.
And we’ll sing loo, loo, loo,
Loo, loo, loo, loo, loo!
Away in a pancake,
A serpent smelled.
What’s it to you, buddy?
I’m drunk. I don’t care.
What’s it to you?
I’m married. I don’t have
An opinion on the matter.
Barnyard Type
Back to the barn!
He screamed, so loudly.
What, were you raised in a barn?
Barn animals don’t close doors.
Barnyards have doors left open.
Barn clothes are dirty.
On second thought,
Are you a cow?
Or a pig?
Or a chicken?
I’m the barnyard type,
Oh, yes, indeedee!
Come oh come
Saintly garb is too legit.
Black carpet
Round the pit.
Comfortably numb,
That’s what I hit.
Come forth, Lazarus!
Hurry, come quick!
See the angels
In the sky.
See the banner
In my Budweiser eye.
Come oh come,
Ye saintly types.
Come home, come home.
Now, let’s not fight.
