An accordion player from Boise (Boyzee)
Was considered by all very noisy.
So a petition was called
And some were appalled,
So in the end, they sent him a daisy
Whistling past the graveyard one night
I saw a most frightening sight.
I turned quickly to run away
But I heard someone say,
Would you lean your neck closer, so I could take just one bite?
The diary was able to float,
So I quickly tossed on top of it, my very heavy coat.
In one pocket was a stone,
In the other a bone
And the whole lot sank down with the boat.
There was an old writer named Sloane
He wrote in a miserably boring tone
His books were unread
Used for taller chairs, it was said
But most people left them alone.