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This is quite possibly Bob Folder’s finest poem

I in all my lucky days
Have never danced inside my pants
Have never danced a dancie-dance
Inside my little pantsie-pants.

I in all the spooky fruit
That spun so slowly in my sleep
Have never dared to lift the sheet
And take a little peekie-peek.

But every monstrous shake-n-bake
That launched a dump-truck in the lake
Baked a little cakie-cake
And popped a toad until it spake.

In all those lucky daisie-days
Of dancing in my pantsie-pants
And taking leave of common sense
I never danced a dancie-dance