CQBArms
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- Sep 24, 2006
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In the style of Kilmer's "Trees"
I do not think I shall ever see,
Anything quite as evil as a tree;
A tree whos hungry eye,
Seeks my rockets in the sky;
A tree who searches to and fro,
Waiting for the wind to blow;
A tree that in the summer wears,
My rockets and chutes in her hair;
Into whos evil maw has flown,
All the rockets that I have owned;
Rockets are made by fools like me,
Only to be stolen from the sky by a tree.
RIP Fat Boy
I do not think I shall ever see,
Anything quite as evil as a tree;
A tree whos hungry eye,
Seeks my rockets in the sky;
A tree who searches to and fro,
Waiting for the wind to blow;
A tree that in the summer wears,
My rockets and chutes in her hair;
Into whos evil maw has flown,
All the rockets that I have owned;
Rockets are made by fools like me,
Only to be stolen from the sky by a tree.
RIP Fat Boy