...and then I hit my chin upon the floor.
My teeth went through my lips and scraped the ground.
I noticed failed eyetooth and incisor.
The clacking in my head it did resound.
On that fateful day...
The small tin goose upon the mat was lain.
A souvenier from on the day I wed.
I feel it's naught but luck I wasn't slain,
For that foul bird was impaled to my head.
That woeful day..
'Tis fortunate indeed I did not drown.
I staggered and let out a pain-filled whoop.
Fumbling for grip as I again went down,
the handle that I grabbed brought boiling soup.
Ohhh, that day..
I bellowed out "POOR ME" and felt despair,
As I sat scalded with my mouth all loose.
When I flopped back I should have had a care,
with pain I found out whence that bloody goose.
I hate that goose...
And now my living room is filled with gore.
The bloody mess would really quite astound.
And I am but a toothless troubador,
whose grim smile will now never more be found....
On that difficult day when I saw Rutger Hauer's penis.