You’d think that he was just one of them fellas

You’d think that he was just one of them fellas
Looking everywhere for places shady.
(This poet shows us far too many umbrellas.)

His page is white as half the hair of Cruella
(Now there was one! A real crazy lady!)
You’d think that he was just one of them fellas.

His words are good they make me say “Que bella!”
Like architecture as convoluted as Gaudi
(This poet shows us far too many umbrellas.)

Want poems? He sends them squirting out like jello
Or spreading them on toast just like a baby
You’d think that he was just one of them fellas.

He makes me laugh like Abott & Costello
(Betcha he sings lot’s like a buncha Brady’s)
While showing us ’bout far too many umbrellas

And at the end he gets us all so mellow
From hanging out with coffee and crumbly pastry
You’d think that he was just one of them fellas
(But what the heck’s with all of them umbrellas?!)



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