A rotten egg one curate had.
That curate said, “It weren’t all bad.”
Another's leg felt stiff and sore.
Quoth he, “No worse than ‘twas before,”
then strapp’d on a prosthetic peg
and said, “Who needs a second leg...?”
But when a third one's keg ran out,
That curate said, “It weren’t all bad.”
Another's leg felt stiff and sore.
Quoth he, “No worse than ‘twas before,”
then strapp’d on a prosthetic peg
and said, “Who needs a second leg...?”
But when a third one's keg ran out,
‘twas tot'lly bad; he voiced no doubt.
