Athlete Cured by Fall
Look under
Look under
From the hotbed of creation
in dreamstate.
The cure, bulletin, zeitung
Was in no pill.
Look under.
The cure was in no pill.
The German athletic star was continually ill.
For months doctors were puzzled.
The star would complain of the smell in his room.
On visiting him this was found to be true.
An odor resembling hot-dogs permeated the whole bedroom.
A solution was only discovered by my closely
watching his brother Gert.
Gert was handsome, well-meaning, but slightly a careless type.
Not malicious, I hope you understand and grasp.
No chance.
But on returning from his clerical job, Gert
would park his Volkswagen at the end of the day
willy-nilly in the driveway, usually the wrong way round,
so that the exhaust fumes would flow upwards right through
the open windows of the athletic star's upstairs bedroom.
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