I was biting my time as dust fell
And my bloody dire rear it was hell
I had swallowed some dollop 
Which I hope picked a wallop
But waiting was making me smell
Alongside me was my escape goat
A man who grasps time by the stoat
He has wobbly knees
And old timers disease
And his hearbuds are down by this throat
As I wrote this verse I could have sworn 
That you wouldn’t find any eggcorns
But it’s quite up to you
If you see one or two
Said the maiden alone and fallorn

©️JJ 2018

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