A Dumber Drummer. Poem by Michael Gale

Drummer, drummer...
Without a beat.

Drummer with such smelly feet...
What a fact, that does be dumber-
Wow, oh wow...
What a bummer.

Look as the drummer walks along with
such over sized flatter feet...
His name was not Ted, nor Bob, or Pete.

He fell and stumbled and fell to his face...
When he got up, he was an uglier disgrace.

Pain and suffering was his only claim...
To a saddening feeling of shame in fame.

How should he go on in life at best? ...
Maybe he should just invest in a bullet-proof vest-At best.

Oder Eaters will be his best friend...
So at last he'll live an ending happily-in the end.

Drummer, drummer...
No more days of an unhappy Summer.

No more, no way, not now, a bummer.