The mob was shocked
but not so slow. They took off running too.
They supposed it was what's right;
for them, it was all quite new.
They wondered about the etiquette:
should they shout and scream and holler?
After all, others slept;
it was quite an early hour.
Lamps went flying, tables turned.
Outside, the mob did take.
They followed behind their victim,
leaving destruction in their wake.
All the while, the barman ran,
shooting glances over-shoulder.
He ducked and dodged the trees and twigs
before he hid behind a boulder.
The mob, they stopped dead in their tracks
for they couldn't see him.
They stood quite still, all confused.
(The mob was rather dim.)
The barman shouted out with glee
then realized his mistake.
The mob had found him once again!
So he headed for the lake.
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