Singing Sounded Awful

Singing Sounded Awful When singling he howled like a hound And had emitted such an awful sound  Like metal being scraped with a trowel Sometimes sounded like a horned owl. For his singing no one gave a hoot Of all evil singing was surely the root About his singing we kept on stewing What beer next should we be brewing. His singing ended after reaching its tail We did drink down a pitcher of pale ale After we had drunk it down the hatch On his big mouth we applied a latch. Now his singing no longer can be heard To hell he and his soul were transferred Down there poor souls hear his singing When he is herd they still start cringing. James Thesarious Hilarious Horn Retired Veteran and Poet Send this to the Vegas Vagabonds Who in yard have many plush ponds.