My friends, it’s a cold day in Hell
A fact you all know very well.
Fifteen below, would seem the time
To tip my hair, bow out, resign.
A gift for those whose hearts are cold
Begrudge me earn a little gold.
But I have warmth yet in my heart
A fiery belly, temper tart.
To know that I can make them squirm
Hell, why not seek another term?
Yes, I know just what I will do
I’ll send a friendly, warm BLEEP you.
I’m sure to set their hearts to pound
And heat them up by sticking round.
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