There once was a soldier named Keitel

Die Fuesse fangen an zu schwitzenwenn viele Zellen sich erhitzen.Doch drinnen in der dunklen Tonneschien weder tags noch nachts die Sonne.Durch kleine Fugen und auch Ritzensah man die Kakerlaken flitzen.Sie lebten alle in der Tonne,mit Weisheit wohl, doch ohne Sonne.

But wouldn’t you know itthere’s a wonderful poetand her name could be Gwendolyn Mooney.She’s a poet, by gift and designand her work is of deep sapphirine.Happy Birthday, dear girlfrom the Lim-erick Earlmay I toast you with Liebfraumilch Wine?

spicy polonaise.Sticking to fingersfor eager tongues to savourthe fire lingers.

and chained to it as well.Hands must be cleanand hair brushed straightso that each one will bequite equidistant from its mates.Shoes always rest in parallel,one must be certain about symmetry.Thus, it is no surprise to meand those who walk with methat I detest the smallest droppof stickiness, or damp upon the skin,be that on legs…

Some asinineand arrogant filouhad started up a gameof can we screw and keep,have a genetic linesuperior to any zoo.But Dolly faltered,some things were notand could not beup on the upwhen it was alteredand Dolly’s life wasyes, ’twas cutthey prayed, saidover runs the cupand then she died.But someone lied.It had been all along intendedto put her…

Will a cat devour a mouse if she is definitely blind,will the rain find, in the dark, its way to earth?If a tree falls in the forest just when no one is around(it must happen, Lord, so tell me if you would)will the impact of the tree upon the ground then make a soundas it…