Perfect Pitch

Standard

 

 

My son is B flatting
He has learnt to whistle inwardly
He whistles to his heart
telling it to keep safe and to the left
He whistles to the esophagus sheep
telling them to ferry
whole sauced baked beans
deftly to the lower level

As he becomes internally accomplished
He whistles further down
Tunefully tickling the intestines
Firing quavers round the colon
Donning them with Ds, Gs and sliding Es
Keeping gloopy three four time
in soupy six eight Chyme
Bubbling yeasty semi-C-breves
while F’s effervesce
more often than less
at the bare Minimal distance
of bars compressed

 
Dotted- crotchet – rest
clearing pipes, briefly muting

 
Fanfare of yonder thunder
Toot, whizz, parp
His gut bleats back Triumphantly
A followed by C Sharp

 

 

 

Sheep Made from Dryer Remnants

Sheep Made from Dryer Remnants

 

 

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