31 May 2010
Whose poetry rhymed none to soon,
And he wrote Vogon lines
Which deserved hefty fines
& a boot round the back o'the moon!
South of the Zambezi,
There lives a hardy Boer man
The folks all call "Oom Keesie."
Now, Keesie is a soldier-man
Who fought the godless Commies
And speaks een kleintje Nederlands,
Unlike those awful Pommies.
He lives amidst the jungle dark,
Where snakes and tigers menace,
But not a single one of them's
A match for old KeesKennis.
If Jim should see a crocodile,
No need to start in screaming:
When Keesie gets his hands on it,
Its blood will soon be streaming.
But he's a friendly kind of bloke,
The kind I'd want to drink with.
Knows how to tell a filthy joke
About the holes we stink with.
Let's make a toast. I'll raise my glass
And drink to our KeesKennis -
Who kicks the mighty lion's ass
(Too bad he sucks at tennis.)
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