A smithy, name of Ronnie Gun
Created an invention
To rapidly distribute lead
Within the third dimension
He buffed away and polished it
Displayed upon his shelf
He loved that thing so very much
He named it for himself

So he used it in the local bar
To order up some beer
But the landlord wasn’t happy
Having rapid lead just here
He said “If you’ll be drinking here
On more than one occasion,
I’ll need a fancy shooting stick
Of the hole-making persuasion

Ronnie hastened off to home
To build another gun
A scientific exercise
He’d do it just for fun
And if perchance he happened by
The local bar tonight
He’d leave it there for safety
With his friendly barman: Dwight

But Dwight was quite a careless man
He waved his gun around
It puzzled him why everyone
Was lying on the ground
By evening a line had formed
Of angry solid angry local
Demanding Guns for everyone
And getting rather vocal

So all week long he toiled away
and though his gun was fine
He took a little liberty
Improving the design
He charged them quite a penny
Growing richer by the day
While his remained to gather dust
Still standing on display

Policemen came that afternoon
With news of great concern
The ****** rate was soaring
And it’s no surprise to learn
The leading cause of death we’ve found
Is holes from rapid lead
We’re going to have to close you down
There’s one too many dead

‘Twas then that inspiration
Hit like lead propelled at speed
Ronnie stood and thus proclaimed
“I know just what you need!
I’ll happily sell you weapons
With reduction to my fee
And just to prove my honesty
I’ll give you yours for free

And soon another queue had formed
Around his little shop
Of people sick of ducking
At the first sign of a cop
It came to pass that everyone
Had bought a gun to hold
So Ronnie made a bigger gun
And counted up his gold