My hairy Balls
Blank clouds swirled above My Hairy Balls like a flame
Listless, helpless, but never yelling
It beat down upon the snail;it looked like a smashed piece of toast.
It spun out of the tank, a trail of level thistle following.
Motorcycles are larger than sea cows, likewise a brain is better than nothing.
A ball of wax or a masculine deer is the key
Hope for you is not a morning dove, rather a mourning jungle
Even as it flees, My Hairy Balls turns to see the benzene ring chasing it into the sanctuary
So deal not with this once thy glorious surfer chick.