Hyram’s aceing a test. Lowell’s testing an ace.
He runs fliers he tries through a three-legged race.
Hyram’s booking new cooks. Lowell’s cooking the
books
His report’s deemed ill- (-egible, -egal) – by crooks!
Hyram’s counting the dogs. Lowell’s dogging the
Count.
He tracks vampires and ghouls on his Lipizzan mount.
Hyram’s ducking a plane. Lowell’s planing a duck.
First he peels off its eider, bypassing the chuck.
Hyram ends with a bang. Lowell’s bang’d up the end
of a Volkswagen Beetle he bought off a friend.
Hyram’s flying the coop. Lowell coops up the flies
he extracts from an octogenarian’s eyes.
Hyram’s guarding the eggs. Lowell’s egging the
guard
who requested his papers at new Scotland Yard.
Hyram’s holding the line. Lowell’s lining the hold
of his cheese-laden ship, thereby stemming the mould.
Hyram’s inking the press. Lowell’s pressing the ink,
a gall wrung from squash’d octopi. (Why, do you think…?)
Hyram’s judging a paste. Lowell’s pasting a judge
with a nickel-filled condom. (Hy will hold a grudge.)
Hyram’s junking a post. Lowell’s posting his junk.
Look who’s liked him on Facebook! (The man is no monk.)
Hyram’s kneading the bread. Lowell’s breading his
knee.
(He dusts elbows with cake crumbs as well. He’s too twee.)
Hyram’s leaving his post. Lowell’s posting his
leaves,
fronds he mails to a pen pal for stems he receives.
Hyram’s milking a bee. Lowell’s “being the milk.”
(He admires method actors and folk of that ilk.)
Hyram’s nursing his paw. Lowell’s pawing his nurse.
(Once she’s emptied his bed pan he’ll rifle her purse.)
Hyram orders the plaice. Lowell places an order
for heuvos rancheros at South o’ the Border.
Hyram’s pumping the iron. Lowell’s ironing the pump.
When sufficiently flat, it’s removed to the dump.
Hyram’s queering the deal. Lowell’s dealing the
queer
nowt but deuces and treys. (Himself...? Aces, I fear.)
Hyram’s running a race. Lowell’s racing the runs.
Will he get to the loo before soiling his buns...?
Hyram’s salting a wound. Lowell’s wounding a salt –
jabbing jolly Jack Tar, though ‘twas nowt Jackie’s fault.
Hyram’s tying the knot. Lowell’s knotting the tie
he employs to destroy kittens. (Turn a blind eye!)
Hyram utters a note. Lowell’s noting an udder:
“Your sow’s teat’s too huge!” Lowell’s o’erheard to mutter.
Hyram’s voting for change. Lowell’s changing his
vote.
He’s electing a train with a gravy-fill’d boat.
Hyram’s wining his date. Lowell’s dating his wine.
He pretends to pour Dom Perignon ’89.
Hyram x-rays the loo. Lowell loses the x-ray
revealing what dinosaur elbows and necks weigh.
Hyram’s yanking your chain. Lowell’s chaining your
Yank.
(As to which state your Yank’s from I’m drawing a blank.)
Hyram zones through a play. Lowell plays through a
zone.
(Once his dribble improves, he’ll be fa-a-a-ar better known.)
He runs fliers he tries through a three-legged race.
His report’s deemed ill- (-egible, -egal) – by crooks!
He tracks vampires and ghouls on his Lipizzan mount.
First he peels off its eider, bypassing the chuck.
of a Volkswagen Beetle he bought off a friend.
he extracts from an octogenarian’s eyes.
who requested his papers at new Scotland Yard.
of his cheese-laden ship, thereby stemming the mould.
a gall wrung from squash’d octopi. (Why, do you think…?)
with a nickel-filled condom. (Hy will hold a grudge.)
Look who’s liked him on Facebook! (The man is no monk.)
(He dusts elbows with cake crumbs as well. He’s too twee.)
fronds he mails to a pen pal for stems he receives.
(He admires method actors and folk of that ilk.)
(Once she’s emptied his bed pan he’ll rifle her purse.)
for heuvos rancheros at South o’ the Border.
When sufficiently flat, it’s removed to the dump.
nowt but deuces and treys. (Himself...? Aces, I fear.)
Will he get to the loo before soiling his buns...?
jabbing jolly Jack Tar, though ‘twas nowt Jackie’s fault.
he employs to destroy kittens. (Turn a blind eye!)
“Your sow’s teat’s too huge!” Lowell’s o’erheard to mutter.
He’s electing a train with a gravy-fill’d boat.
He pretends to pour Dom Perignon ’89.
revealing what dinosaur elbows and necks weigh.
(As to which state your Yank’s from I’m drawing a blank.)
(Once his dribble improves, he’ll be fa-a-a-ar better known.)
