On a trip one day,
In the month of May,
I saw a stream,
How cold it did seem.
It traveled over stone and rock,
And to each stone it did knock,
I waded out in my bare feet,
And off a foot went all my meat.
It hurt so terribly much,
And tingled to the touch,
So I got out to dry,
So on land I could die.
Everybody tried their best,
But they ended to be just little, old pests,
I'll never forget that trip,
After my little dip,
In water,
Now my daughter,
Won't believe me,
Don't you see?
No comments:
Post a Comment