My Brain

O my brain is like a bulbous mass,

some say is filled with hay.

O my brain is like mere second-class,

some say is in decay.


As fair thou art, my bonnie brain,

so deeply my humble pie.

My thoughts will pour like acid rain,

even though they falsify.


Till all my thoughts do disappear,

it is all I need to say.

Russia was n’er so grateful, dear,

of the land I gave away.


O my brain is like a deep crevasse,

that fills with crap bestowed.

All my smarts then shoot out my ass,

pure dung served a la mode.

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