Neeble-Tirps v2.0
October 31st, 2006 by Johnny
Neeble-Tirps, Neeble-Tirps, oh how they run and play,
But can they see me here, with no clothes on?
My pants are on fire,
It burns when I pee.
I’d fly to Mars now,
If not for the fee.
The Neeble-Tirps come to play at my feet,
But do they see me standing there, waiting for Johnny?
Tuesday will come,
Friday has past.
My llama has sex,
But just not with me.
Neeble-Tirps now go, as fast as can be,
They know not of Johnny, but do they know me?
Johnny is dead,
Buried under the tree,
No one will visit him,
But the Neeble-Tirps and me.
Dear Johnny,
I have waited 8 days to post this reply. I have broken down your poem using the latest in disgusting technology, and through the power of the burn I have found the hidden code. Tuesday ring a bell? You thought you could get that one by me. Nice try, poop.
Keep on doggin’ on!
-RMcC