there was an old man in Darjeeling
he lost all his senses and feeling
but he read in a book
it makes the world look
really good when you watch from the ceiling

he spent the rest of his life upside down
with a smile on his face, not a frown,
he never felt faint
people called him a saint
but his blessing was being a clown

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the Irish love to play on the bodhrán drum
when they had enough whiskey
it’s sure to get frisky
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