If they could save rhyme in a bottle
We could just pour them out as we need
It would spare hair some gray
For us poor parodists every day
no more ulcers to bleed

If we could just buy rhyme at Wal Mart
No doubt they would sell like hot cakes
We all could have our own rhyme cellar, and then
We'd see better lines, less mistakes

Cause it's always hard to snag that one rhyme
We seek when we write parodies
It's elusive
Like that old butterfly, we know
Always one wisp away, and so
We'd welcome

Clips from connoisseurs of creation
Preserved from the poets of time
No words we'd be wasting,
Our minds could keep tasting,
We'd savor those bottles of rhyme