Poem -

Hom,Nob,Trob.

Hom,Nob,Trob.

See the shore, of the thing times a boar your not igore  just sleeping on the job get it together don't be a stincken slob Hom, Nob, Trob and a way they rob with running trolls with, bowls and weird goals. Adease, I stay cause I am wasting away and feel no compassion to ration, with people with weird thoughts and that's all they gots, but tomorrow is tomorrow and today is today, keep um at bay tip tomorrow tip the hour glass and hang them on sorrow.

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