There was a first line in a song,
Exactly eight syllables long,
But the following lines,
Didn't have proper rhymes,
And the scanning of the last line was wrong.
A second verse had been composed,
And though it was widely supposed,
That the fail of the first,
Could be somehow reversed,
It wasn't. And so the song closed.
The encore was thus a surprise,
What was over was somehow reprised,
And the new second line,
counted syllables nine,
Seems you never get more than two tries.
Exactly eight syllables long,
But the following lines,
Didn't have proper rhymes,
And the scanning of the last line was wrong.
A second verse had been composed,
And though it was widely supposed,
That the fail of the first,
Could be somehow reversed,
It wasn't. And so the song closed.
The encore was thus a surprise,
What was over was somehow reprised,
And the new second line,
counted syllables nine,
Seems you never get more than two tries.
+3
