Bumblefrumps and Moonbeams,
May make you split at the seams,
Should you partake to inhale, these things,
You deserve all the misfortune it brings,
The choking of lung,
The shortness of breath,
The burning sensation, that's rocking the nation,
Making you scream for the glory of death,
But the time is not to dwell on these thoughts,
Of morbid atrocities, and tennis courts,
The people they claimed that I was insane!
But you can see by my words I put them to shame,
The rhyming couplets and hypnotic rhythm,
Make you want to dance like a gibbon,
And you may do so, but may I say,
That they just may cart you far away,
To the big building, with the special coats,
Where they feed you daily with tainted oats,
As may have guessed, this rhyme is nowhere headed,
Or perhaps to the petrol station, to stock up on unleaded,
The unconventional rhyming pattern,
May leave you in a twist,
But at least you're not on Saturn,
Where they eat things with their wrist,
Tis a strange place inside my head,
Where not many dare to tread,
But what dwells there are words like this,
Which bring you all some twisted bliss,
I would like to stop this now,
But I'm afraid I don't know how,
Seems the rhyme has taken over,
A brought in a dog named Rover,
See there he is plain as day,
As these words start to fade away...