The morning
I tried to get out of bed
but couldn't 'coz I was dead.
Ode to a 7 dimensional butterfly
Your antennae are rather long,
They stretch all the way to Hong-Kong.
But I'm sorry, I have to regret,
Your wings are slightly wet.
The Last Supper
(to be sung to the tune of Happy Birthday)
I'll die for your sins,
If you'll empty your bins,
All over the tablecloth,
Enjoy your din-dins.