This is a poem I found online one day. I think its one of the funniest things ever, but I have that kind of sense of humor. Thought maybe someone else would get a kick out of it. Back up in the South, There's a place called Mouth, Where the cows love cheese, Especially with roast peas. This place of mystery, Has virtually no history, And when the cuckoo crows, You know you've gotta pose. The laws of Mouth are strict, And strawberries are always fresh picked, So from the cooker to the frying pan, You heard about all the Spam! There's canned heat in my heels, And I stink of Orange peels, But I grab my handy torch, And find those marks of scorch. Open the door, get on the floor, Anybody seen my dinosaur? It's fleshy big and fat, And wears a lovely bowler hat. Many say it's the home of Moses But who will buy my sweet red roses? Now I'm wobbling at the knees, So I'll leave you with one final sneeze!