Mikey and His Irish Ass

I wasn't going to release this poem, But when I was Reading from Casarah list, changed my mind, so it's not my fault, Jan made me do it. The story about Mikey and His Ass Now Mikey was a poor boy,who Lived out on a farm Although he never owned a thing He never lost his charm Nor did he have a penny, when the Plate was passed around His shoe were full of holes Where his feet would touch the ground But Mikey Loved the Church, and Especially the Mass That's where Mikey kneeled and prayed And lo, it came to pass He didn't pray for shoes, Or money for the tithe Instead, He was blessed With a mighty Ass to ride Of course, Mikey liked his drink, it Put him in good cheer But for, every shot of whiskey He'd Buy his Ass a beer Soon though, he discovered, when he'd Ride his Ass to town That every step that it would take There came an awkward sound But the sound was not the problem Not for Mikey or his Ass It was the smell that lingered on And made the town folk gasp The smell got so putrid, That the Vicar had to say "Mikey it'd be better If you wouldn't come this way" You can imagine how he felt, He Was really broken hearted Now, asked to leave the Church, he loved Because his Ass had farted So Mikey learned a lesson, and Returning to The Mass He wore new shoes, and gave a tithe Because, He sold His Ass