The Blacksmith Song
--Epilogue-- (The alleged creator and his creation are dead. And so is the tale apparently. Or is it?) The Blacksmith told me in after-life He didn’t but the infamy did survive The applause he’d had once with zest It’s high time the case be put to rest. Chorus: Put to rest, put to rest. It’s high time the case be put to rest… Now the old Knock-Knock joker is up there The Blacksmith and its creator both would share A glass of whisky on the rocks Revel and revile some Kooler Talks. The beak of steel was used to stir And the big round wheel stank of slur Up there the two silver bowls did rust And the whole steamy thing gathered dust. Chorus: Gathered dust, gathered dust. The whole steamy thing gathered dust… To wipe the bowels clean next day Apologies were due to his dismay. The surd’s wit and the Blacksmith’s rod Would shun what now no one could laud. So they sat on their respective pots In hereafter, took...