Burns my butt, is not delightful
And since I've got places to go
Go away, go away go away,
It doesn’t show signs of stopping
Outta egg$, I gotta go shopping
Not a fan, I'm here to say
Go away, go away go away.
Weathermen can kiss my... grits.
Driving in it gives me the... diarrhea..
How I’ll hate going out in this crap
Color me a grumpy old sap..
All the way home I’ll be fussing,
Taut, white knuckles, assuredly cussing
The fire for seasons is slowly dying
January, February we’re still good-bye-ing
Spring, I love you so..
(Winter/snow) go away, go away go away.
Poem end. Bad, sorry. Kinda.
I hate it, and I know some don't mind it.
Not me, cause it's cold, I canardly find it.
Pitchers and catchers today... (snow) go away go away go away.
Robin, Robin, as quick as you can,
I may have to become an Orioles fan....
By Henry Gibson (shrinkage, sorry, kinda)
Love, Victurd
Victurd? Are you really 70-something?
OUCH!
Sorry sucker. Next snowball might have a rock in it.
No comments:
Post a Comment