Drifloon Rocks
Honey, please don't eat the rancid dung.
One bright day, a girl named Jill
Sat down on her windowsill.
She looked out at the old windmill
That sat on top of a grassy hill
And saw her witty friend named Bill.
So she put on her dress with the lacy frill
And skipped out the door while whistling with a trill.
She called “Hey, Bill, lets go to the rill!”
You know. The one out by Logville
We can try to catch some nice, pink krill.
They taste great once cooked on a grill.”
She had even brought a bucket to fill
With the little shellfish, but her friend stayed still.
He said “Well, I would rather kill
A cat using a hedgehog quill
And dig it a grave with a little drill,
Or help my mom with soil to till,
Or eat a pickle. You know I hate Dill,
Than catch those fish that make me ill.
Doesn’t each one have a floppy gill?
Let’s do something else that requires less skill”
So the two sat down and thought, until
Jill had to go home against her will.
Okay, so it was random, but the entire thing rhymed! And it made relative sense!
Sat down on her windowsill.
She looked out at the old windmill
That sat on top of a grassy hill
And saw her witty friend named Bill.
So she put on her dress with the lacy frill
And skipped out the door while whistling with a trill.
She called “Hey, Bill, lets go to the rill!”
You know. The one out by Logville
We can try to catch some nice, pink krill.
They taste great once cooked on a grill.”
She had even brought a bucket to fill
With the little shellfish, but her friend stayed still.
He said “Well, I would rather kill
A cat using a hedgehog quill
And dig it a grave with a little drill,
Or help my mom with soil to till,
Or eat a pickle. You know I hate Dill,
Than catch those fish that make me ill.
Doesn’t each one have a floppy gill?
Let’s do something else that requires less skill”
So the two sat down and thought, until
Jill had to go home against her will.
Okay, so it was random, but the entire thing rhymed! And it made relative sense!
