or, Sum Up Summertime, Poetically Licensed Sing-Song Meter Edit

Just because it’s summer, there’s not always a last rose Baseballs fly into bats, and bats fill up on mosquitoes Camping corpses marinate in DEET, but still they are a-slappin’ Pedro’s fire works, as does yours, and explosions are happ’nin’

Mother nature’s boiling More >