They say in the Bedouin camp
The Geanie is really a scamp
Sure, he’ll grant you wishes
Of romance or dishes
As long as you’re rubbing his lamp
When I read this story I knew
That none of the story rang true
For I had an uncle
And he had this furuncle
That he said would grant wishes too
But according to my loving Aunt
The only thing that thing would grant
Was a wrist with a sprain
Then she tried to explain
I’d go on but I really can’t
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