High C, No She

’Twas once a young crooner imbued with maroon or some other embarrassing shade when he sang the wrong note in a gondola boat, unawares the mistake he had made. In arial rapture, his true love to capture, he sang out his heart in a song, but love turned to fury and rage in a hurry as everything went rather wrong. He tried a high C, but he hit it off-key with a screech that shattered strong glass. And that glass-bottomed boat? His gal could not float, and he nearly drowned the poor lass. So caught up was he, the event did not see, his singing, her beauty, extolled. Instead, she ran off with the handsome young Goth who fished her out with a pole.