Fee was arrested,
The party got out of hand,
Everybody contested,
When the cops took away the band…
Maybe we all went overboard,
When to the ceiling we hung his Harley,
At the party, believe me we were not bored,
Except for his Canadian dishes,
They all tasted to me like barley…
He didn’t import the right flies,
He tried to use moose flies to get by,
Okay, so I called the cops to report his lie,
Who knew they would arrest him,
Who knew from his poetry, that he was a Canadian mafia guy…
© ed ~ 11/1/08