My Moaning Lisa (Round Eleven)
I found the right spot, before the night fell,
Then proceeded to take you down the hall
To where you would be able to stand tall,
With a private moment, as you are hailed.
I was the hammer and I was the nail,
Hanging my Moaning Lisa on the wall,
With a firm grasp, so that you would not fall.
So, against the wall, I hoisted you well.
My Moaning Lisa came with her own hole,
So, I just had to apply the right force,
Knowing this hammering would take a tole.
The wall upon which you were hung was coarse,
And was strong enough to support your soul,
As I returned your essence to the source.
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