I’m a midnight grinder, a shamrock finder, got a calendar, don’t need a reminder.
I’m built Ford tough, edges rough, whenever I’m hot springin’ it’s in the buff.
I down my steak rare, am a baller at foursquare, you better believe I oppose the electric chair.
I’ve never had a gallstone, send messages via Iphone, and take extra cheese on my Tombstone.
There things are worse than my slipping into verse; don’t mean to be morbid, like driving away in a hearse.