She Loved Her Hambone To His Bone
She lost her hambone on Monday at nine-fifty-nine.
It was in her tomato soup, which was almost sublime.
The next time she had him, he was browning up, and pink.
With his lecherous eye, he gave her a soft pat, and a wink.
The love she felt for hambone was instant, pure and true.
She knew she’d better take a nap, so she’d know what else to do.
Hambone and a floozy were running around together at a quarter to three.
She was angry, mad, and sent out her hornet workers on a little stinging spree.
Following the bees was easy, sure. “You little vixen!” she shrieked at the tramp.
“You had better not be taking my hambone to the ham and bean bone camp!”
The vixen screamed loud, and ran away into the night.
Leaving a worried hambone to fight his own fight.
“We were going to Lewisville, outside of France.”
“Honey, the next time, you’d better remember who wears the pants.”
So it was true love that day, pure and simple.
And things were done that will dry up every little pimple.
And let the lesson here be in your brain forever.
Snap up the hambone that makes your heart quiver.
Don’t please the neighbors, or your Daddy Joe.
Just keep your hambone away from the great big…….
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