Man With a Plan

There once was a man Who was beating a tin pan. His hands were very sore, Right down to the core. He decided to have a good tan. He made up a plan, There's not much to really span. The dog rose up and sniffed From broiled beef there was a whiff; A kitty was added to the clan. Now the dear fellow Was naught but yellow, Can't tune up the pans he would beat, He stacked them up in rows real neat, And lets out a sound like a bellow.