Krick-Krocks,
Take off ya socks!
Not nice chips,
They give me head flips,
Krick-Krocks don't want them falling on Ainslie's head,
Especially when she's in bed,
Charlie Sheen writes these kind of things
He eats Krick-Krocks, they give his tongue a sting.
India is sitting there, reading her book,
She is hungry but, won't give the Krick-Krocks a single look,
Going to Paris, we're on the train,
Eating Krick-Krocks they give our tongue pain,
We were at the Colloseum,
Krick-Krocks we don't even wanna see 'em,
Ainslie's reading 'My Sister's Keeper'
Krick-Krocks we don't wanna keep ya!
India's moving her legs out of the light,
Krick-Krocks give our tastebuds a fright!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I think I too tried these chips when visiting Rome, pretty severe, not worth writing home. Give me some Twisties and I will gorge 'em, stick your Krick-Krocks in you forum.