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.
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