There once lived a boar,
who lived with a whore,
and they dance a verilly merry tune.
While Curiosity laughed,
At the sight of the prancing break dancing two.
They hopped and they popped (as in break dance),
and spoke all the more,
till the cow had mooed it's last moo...
When the old cow died,
Not a soul did mind,
Its carcass laid bare on the moon,
Now here is the catch,
A peculiar stash
Of flowers did grow on the moon.
The flowers were laced,
With a potent trace
Of unfamiliar shampoo (the kind you get from the supermarket).
The cow ate the flowers (naturally)
and jumped up and down,
and convulsed till its spots turned sour (or the colour green)
After an hour,
Came the boar with the whore
and the boy who fathered them all
"Poor Cow' He said..
"I'm sorry you're dead
It must have been those wretched flowers".
"Oh nevermind", he cried
'tis time to die...
We all will go sometime...
Flower or moon,
Boar or Whore,
It doesn't matter anymore....
Death comes anyway,
Eat what you like,
just don't forget to say what you need to say...
I'm not making sense (if I were, I'd be rich)
but there's always a chance,
To go break-dancing nonsensically..
With a cow, a board and the boy who cried whore.