Contributor: Michael Atreides Lair

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Old man Thimble
wobbles and wimbles
on top of Mount Brimble,
seetheseeing all to be seen.

His white wine fleece
falters to fall so sweetly
while the wind billows beneathly,
it seems.

If you climb Mount Brimble,
beware the clash of cymbals
and the choir along the treble
seethesinging high indeed.

When you read old man Thimble
he may mumble, he may crumble
and say you're better off dead
(or however it is said).

And when you hearith him speak
you'll fallith to your knees
tremble and be perfectly weak.
You'll watch the blood you've bled

fall from his strained, chocking hands.
Sadly dear friend you've reach the end.


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