MusingsPoetry

Master Funky

Master Funky, Master Funky
Stout and chunky
Tricky as a monkey
Stubborn as a donkey

Master Funky, Master Funky
Weak as a flea
The mere buzzing of a bee
Makes him want to flee

Master Funky, Master Funky
“I’m a player,” he’d boast
But when he tries a lady to toast
He freezes like he’s seen a ghost

Master Funky, Master Funky
He frowns when he’s happy
And smiles when he’s unhappy
You never know when he feels crappy

Master Funky, Master Funky
He lives with his granny
At 30, he still has a nanny
His case is quite uncanny

Master Funky, Master Funky
In the night while he sleeps
Through his shorts the liquid seeps
Underneath, his soft bed weeps.

O dear, Master Funky.

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