There once was a lady
Named Mrs. O'Brady
Who hated the world
It seemed
The wicked 'ol witch
Was sort of a *****
And she spit and she cussed
And she screamed
The children all feared
Whenever she leered
That her gaze
Might turn them to stone
And the dogs even knew
Never to poo
In the small yard
In front of her home
'Til one chilly mourn
When snow did adorn
And the ground
Was a blanket of frost
Mrs. O'Brady
That rotten ol' lady
Slipped and her footing
She lost
She fell to the ground
With a thud of a sound
And knocked
Her ol' hag of a head
Then everyone stopped
And they let their jaws drop
For they knew
Mrs. O'Brady was dead
But when she arose
And brushed off her clothes
The drop of a pin
Could be heard
She said "I'm Mrs. O'Brady
The wicked ol' lady"
And she flipped the whole crowd
the bird
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 5:30 AM UTC
There once was a lady
Named Mrs. O'Brady
Who hated the world
It seemed
The wicked 'ol witch
Was sort of a *****
And she spit and she cussed
And she screamed
The children all feared
Whenever she leered
That her gaze
Might turn them to stone
And the dogs even knew
Never to poo
In the small yard
In front of her home
'Til one chilly mourn
When snow did adorn
And the ground
Was a blanket of frost
Mrs. O'Brady
That rotten ol' lady
Slipped and her footing
She lost
She fell to the ground
With a thud of a sound
And knocked
Her ol' hag of a head
Then everyone stopped
And they let their jaws drop
For they knew
Mrs. O'Brady was dead
But when she arose
And brushed off her clothes
The drop of a pin
Could be heard
She said "I'm Mrs. O'Brady
The wicked ol' lady"
And she flipped the whole crowd
the bird
