There was an old Phoenix who lived on a rock
He sat in the meadow just shaking his
Fist at an elf who was down by the crick
His feet in the water, his hands on his
Marbles and play things at a half passed four
There came a young nymph who looked like a
Pretty, young preacher
She sat on the grass, she pulled up her dress
And she showed them her
Ruffles, and laces and white shiny light
She said she was learning a new way to
Bring up her photons, so they would not spit
While the salvs in the barnyard were shoveling
Refuse, and litter from yesterday's hunt
While the nymph in the meadow was rubbing her
Eyes at the mummy, down by the dock
He looked like a man with a sizable
Tomb in the desert, with a big trap out front
If he asked her politely, she'd show him her
Little pet gnome, who was subject to fits
And maybe she'd let him grab hold of her
Small, tender hands with a movement so quick
And then she'd bend over and suck on his
Candy, so tasty made of butterscotch
And then he'd spread whipped cream all over her
Cookies that she had left out on her shelf
If you think this is dirty, you're not good for my health.
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