"I'll sleep when I'm dead!" cried poor Fred From deep in his mildew-proof bed "No worms will there be To keep company, For long nights that might lie ahead."
To sleep, wrote the bard, perchance dream But wake in a grave and you'll scream To snooze or not tooze, his Hamlet must choose But Fred doesn't care for rhyme scheme
They say that the bad will sleep well On nightmares their minds never dwell I'll bet Bush, each night sleeps ever so tight though I'd prefer George rest in hell
"I'll sleep when I'm dead!" cried poor Fred
ReplyDeleteFrom deep in his mildew-proof bed
"No worms will there be
To keep company,
For long nights that might lie ahead."
To sleep, wrote the bard, perchance dream
ReplyDeleteBut wake in a grave and you'll scream
To snooze or not tooze,
his Hamlet must choose
But Fred doesn't care for rhyme scheme
They say that the bad will sleep well
ReplyDeleteOn nightmares their minds never dwell
I'll bet Bush, each night
sleeps ever so tight
though I'd prefer George rest in hell