I got to work one morning Around a quarter to ten. I sipped my coffee, read my Inbox, And it was that then I could feel a funny itching From beneath my clothes. Then I realized a fly had squatted On my nose.
I tried to swat it with my backhand, Blot it with my forehand Chase it to the door and Make my name. But it kept returning all my serves. Was really getting on my nerves, And no matter how I swerved I knew I’d lost the game.
Set The Internet will tell you Flies live no more than a day. So next morning when I spied him My new gained confidence flew away. He was ready for a new set But I had come in armed. With a swatter and a fly gun I hoped to do him harm.
I tried to swat it with my backhand, Blot it with my forehand Chase it to the door and end This cruel duet. But it kept returning all my serves. Was really getting on my nerves, And no matter how I swerved I knew I’d lost the set.
Match On the third morn I was wiser, I brought in expert seeds. Professors Williams, Krumm and Henin From the Fly Busters league. Equipped with racquets, balls and swatters They looked like quite a catch. And it was blood that they were seeking As they closed the match.
They tried to swat it playing backhand. Blot it dead with forehand. Smear it on the door and let him die. Though it braved through every Ace The fly was doomed to second base And by match-end there was no place For a champion fly.
I couldn’t hide a grin As next day I hurried in Because there’s nothing like a win To help you start your day. But I’d spoken far too soon And I almost took a swoon As I saw a whole platoon Of flies awaiting in my tray.