I knew a bow puller named Mac.
Every bow he pulled on would crack.
He hated the bows that would stack,
"Give me that bow...I'll give it right back!".
So I let ol' Mac pull on my bow,
His face lit up with a glow.
As he pulled his smile it would grow,
And a tingle went down to his toe.
CRACK!!! was all I could hear,
And my eye welled up with a tear,
Ol' Mac had pulled to his ear,
And ruined the work of a year.
"Sorry about that ol' Pat,
"I guess that that is just that."
But next time I see that ol' Mac,
I'll kiss his thick skull with my bat.