Not Hella Goin On

There once was a man from $edona

Who hated white bread and bologna

So to avoid the wurst

As the Millar’s first

He flew South to get his diploma

Now he cussed and cursed

till we thought he would burst

but while he was there

he trimmed his hair

He banged all the chicks

that the school could matrix

and although just distracted

from the way he’d acted

he returned with an 86.

 

He is good at Sports,

We've read the reports.

He's better at hoop

And been a good troop

He’s best at music

But might not use it.

He’s a gift for writing

And he’s grown out of fighting

So his knack for language

Won’t need a bandage.

 

And under his armor

Is a magnificent charmer.

With a heart of gold

Some have told

But has no interest in being a farmer.

He could do flooring

it’d be hella boring

So the question at hand

Will he start a band?

 

Life comes in chapters and we turn page by page

The landscape changes like the maples and sage

We live in the present and plan for the future

And it’s no fun at all getting a suture.

With his sheepskin in hand

We will have to plan

for our newly grown up Vancouver man

Full of potential and options galore

His whole life ahead of him that is for sure.

 

There once was a man from $edona

Who hated white bread and bologna

So to avoid the wurst

As the Millar’s first

He flew South to get his diploma.