Wacko Jacko

Clear the track, here comes Jack

Or Johnny Canuck to some

To some of his friends on this poetry site

He's that Wacko Jacko bum!

He's Canadian eh, from way up north

From the land of ice and snow

He eats bowls of nails for breakfast

Wearing manly lumberjack clothes

“Good day eh! How's it goin' eh?”

Are two of his favourite greets

As he polishes off his morning brew

With a slab of uncooked meat

He's a tough old dude, that's for sure

With mush instead of brains

A grizzled good natured son of a gun

With love running through his veins

He'd give you the shirt right off his back

But it's too damn cold up here

For fear of freezing his nipples off

Instead he just says, “Wanna beer?”

Clear the track, here comes Jack

Or Johnny Canuck to some

To a bunch of friends on this poetry site

He's that Wacko Jacko bum!