Reveal the Masonic Prudes
I heard him curse, I heard him groan
the walls are thin, his house my home
A mobster knocked, he let him in
A price to pay: immortal sin
A lobster mocked; we let him stew
Not nice to say: we ate him, too
Hens clucked; we took their eggs
But in return they broke our legs
So here we sit, in our chairs
Joe's in the urn, with no more cares
Oh, to envy him and wish I too
Could be as Joe, or lobster stew
I heard him groan, I heard him curse
And yet, oddly enough, felt no worse!
Joe owed me dough, his rent past due
I never saw his bills were not true.....
So now I've spent both shy and vig
Shall I dance a Scottish reel, or jig?
For a tightwad mobster, lobster's dear
Paid up penny-pincers needn't fear
Contributors: | (trad), Dael, Kansas Sam, P, Roland, Anon., scientist, Hagfish, mcb. |
Poem finished: | 24th June 2003. |