Oh Dickie, you silly twit
You have no detective skills, not one wit
All this was laid out long before
Deep into senility you sink, more and more
The bank, dear Tracy, about the money you must ask
Or would that be too daunting of a task
The money, in volume it would fill 8.4 cubic feet
And weigh 204 pounds, that would look really neat
Another little thing that I wish to bring to light
They record the serial numbers, you know they just might
So check the bills against the numbers
If you can waken from your slumbers
Sue Doko, have you forgotten her
You worthless misbegotten son of a cur
TMS is the one to blame
For running stories that are this lame
Can the Tracy strip be turned around
If new artists/writers, they are found
Or is it now in its dying throes
Its bones to be picked over by the carrion crows.
Oh Dickie, you silly twit You have no detective skills, not one wit All this was laid out long before Deep into senility you sink, more and more The bank, dear Tracy, about the money you must ask Or would that be too daunting of a task The money, in volume it would fill 8.4 cubic feet And weigh 204 pounds, that would look really neat Another little thing that I wish to bring to light They record the serial numbers, you know they just might So check the bills against the numbers If you can waken from your slumbers Sue Doko, have you forgotten her You worthless misbegotten son of a cur TMS is the one to blame For running stories that are this lame Can the Tracy strip be turned around If new artists/writers, they are found Or is it now in its dying throes Its bones to be picked over by the carrion crows.
Bill Thompson, great one yesterday.