_______________________________ The Cabbage Jam Paralysis Rag |
| They came in a sprout shaped |
| turbine propulsioned machine |
| Which was cleaned with complusion |
| and a wipe of emulsion |
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Once every other half year They got comfortable |
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in houses of metal wore holes in their trousers grew vedgetable gardens got generally settled |
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But lo + woe there was trouble in store in a double horned horse drawn mishapen form who while blowing his horns swarmed in on the cabbage jam factory sat on the distillery and immadiately started to eat |
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Until he floated bloated and blearily wearily off to sleep |
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Life went on drearily with an inactive distillery a seemingly intergalactic cabbage jam shortage ensued They developed a fashion |
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to queue in their passion for rations of their favourite food |
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and pillaged and pursued the village garbage for jam for a sandwich |
| And invented a home help cabbage machine |
| which was rented |
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But `tis apparrent |
| the air they say through |
| was transparent |
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Then they remembered the horned form`s limbs were unnumbered So they mobilised |
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with 3D electric picturesque pogo sticks and wended their intended way |
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When there they sussed |
| `twas just a cardboard copy |
| made in plastic |
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with bits of elastic and invisible things which though dried |
| I couldn`t describe |
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just then the mishapen shape |
| started backfiring and with speed and bad bad timing flew off into the sky |
| there is no © S.Robin |