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Flynn's Ass
Pat Flynn and his ass live in Inchicore Pat lives in the house with the bright red door The ass drinks stout but let me tell you more He won the the gold cup in 'eighty four. Flynn went to the race's to place a bet Got chatting to people he'd only just met They thought with Flynn they'd have the craic And put hot chillies' in the ass's sack. He munched and chewed and ate the lot The chillies' took hold, he was off like a shot He crashed through the fence, up went the wire He needed a drink his mouth was on fire. He took the lead, the crowd were on their feet The ass was gasping and dying from the heat One more lap to go he was still ahead Flynn was worried that he'd drop down dead. He crossed the line the crowd did roar The ass carried on then fell to the floor Flynn rushed over with a glass of stout And poured it down the ass's mouth. He soon recovered and to this day Has a bottle of black stuff with his hay His mouth's still hot the heat never died out And that's why Flynn's ass likes his stout. Written 25th November 2017
Copyright © 2024 Tom Cunningham. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things