He was really getting to me,
Stopping at each intersection,
Beating on his panel truck
With a kind of planned perfection.
He would jump out of his truck
With a wooden baseball bat
And bang upon the old truck’s sides
With a rat-a tat-tat-tat.
He was getting on my nerves,
Why should I endure this clown?
I tried my best to pass the truck
But I couldn’t get around.
With curiosity now in charge
I had to ask this stupid man
Was he dumb or just plain nuts
Or did he have some kind of plan?
He said that he sure wasn’t crazy
And sorry that he blocked the road.
His boss had said that his old truck
Could only hold a one-ton load.
He had a two-ton load of pigeons
And asked me if his boss was lying.
‘Cause he’d been told to ease the load
He must keep half the pigeons flying.
0 comments ↓
Leave a comment...
Leave a Comment