Moon Over Thunderbox
Moon over Thunderbox
The moon shines bright on the thunderbox tonight,
Little Charlie raced down and jerked open the door,
Something big and bright almost bloody white
A horror that he almost bloody saw,
Messed his pants upon the plurry floor.
Phenyl, was the smell, have a sniff you can tell,
The ghost was looking out the door,
The screams of Charlie B,
brought the Police a running see,
To arrest a sheep, a hanging all he saw,
In the great Depression time,
It was not seen as, never crime,
To steal a sheep, more for mostly poor,
Being now, paid for the time,
For the unpaid work, crime,
Balance the books,
a sheep to eat, for bloody sure!
Don Johnson 29-aug-11
Waltzing Matilda said sure,
lamb chops came through my door,
Drovers delivered full sheep through the winder,
a cooking at daylight, liver and chops and eggs under fat,
cooked on the old wood stove once more:)
Copyright © Don Johnson | Year Posted 2011
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