The rhino is a homely beast,
For human eyes he’s not a feast.
Farwell, farewell, you old rhinoce
I’ll stare at something less prepo

There is a knocking in the skull,
An endless silent shout
Of something beating on a wall,
And crying, “Let me out!”
That solitary prisoner

They tell me that euphoria is the
Today I have the agility of a Gre
Yes, today I may even go forth wi
Today I am a swashbuckler, would
This is my euphorian day,

I didn’t go to church today,
I trust the Lord to understand.
The surf was swirling blue and whi
The children swirling on the sand.
He knows, He knows how brief my s

The grackle’s voice is less than m
His heart is black, his eye is yel
He bullies more attractive birds
With hoodlum deeds and vulgar word
And should a human interfere,

In spite of her sniffle,
Isabel’s chiffle.
Some girls with a sniffle
Would be weepy and tiffle;
They would look awful,

I have a bone to pick with fate,
Come here and tell me girly,
Do you think my mind is maturing l
Or simply rotting early.

There is something about a Martin
A tingle remarkably pleasant;
A yellow, a mellow Martini;
I wish I had one at present.
There is something about a Martin

Beneath this slab
John Brown is stowed.
He watched the ads
And not the road.

Who wants my jellyfish?
I’m not sellyfish!