To Jump Over the Goose, What A Great Rush!

When I was a child, living by the park

The geese would flock down by the pond

And I would watch.

And I would wait.

And I would pownce.

 

My father scolded me, my mother hung her head in shame

But what fun for a boy to have

To jump the goose, oh what a rush

To see feathers in a fluster

To let dumb beasts know that I'm their master

The End

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