We-ve-all got a tale to tell -
This is mine, so listen well.
I laughed with joy, Ant-icipating
That my beloved would be waiting
By the gnarled old apple tree
To sing his songs of love to me.
The Boatman rowed me o'er the stream
And lit up by the Fireflies’ gleam
I Spied-a Damsel-fly past me
To meet a man by the apple tree;
Into his arms she did Flea quick -
Could it Bee true? Was that my Mick?
I saw a Blue-bottle on the ground
Picked it up and spun around
I smacked him hard upon the head;
Down he fell. He was stone dead.
I picked up the pieces and was able
To read the shattered bottle's label -
No wonder the poor creep had died -
I'd just committed insecticide!