There once was man from Brazil
Who quite often forgot his pill
When blood came in waves
He thought of close shaves
Only now he could be, terminally ill
—-
There was a fellow from Nantucket
Who kept all his eggs in a bucket
As day turned to night
He became a Shi’ite
And went on a package to Phuket
—-
He knew a boy from Bangkok
Who kept all his jewels in a sock
They were cosy and warm
And safe from all harm
Going round like hands on a clock
—-
This boy had very bad sight
And a handshake most terribly tight
To be caught in his grip
Was a terrible trip
One which he practiced by day and by night
—-
He had a friend from Sydney
From whom he borrowed a kidney
Thus, when time came to piss
He no longer would miss
And thanked him for the urea he rid me
—-
Now Michael was due an extraction
And he wanted no single distraction
So, he took up his fiddle
And went for a piddle
Then fell for a fatal abstraction
—-
He met an Ostrich called Karma
And tried his best to charm her
Despite all his words
He got only turds
So he stopped trying to teach, the Dharma
—-
And the morale of these songs
Is on how to write wrongs
Watch out for those curls
And tight winding whorls
Or the barber will get them with tongs