We hope he's very snug, and know he's tight.
Above the clouds I sojourn now,
The twinkling stars between,
Because I tried to figure how
To cook with gasolene.
I'm dead all right, but not quite all right dead,
For schemes of vengeance hurtle thru my head;
My wife eloped, a cheating chicken she;
Forsook her nest, and then flew back to me
With all her brood: I love her as I useter