Hey! Put That Effin' Sign Back!
THE EFFEN BEE
He kept bees in the old town of Effen,
An Effen beekeeper was he,
And one day this Effen beekeeper,
Was stung by a big Effen bee.
Now this big Effen beekeeper’s wee Effen wife,
For the big Effen polis she ran,
For there’s nobody can sort out a big Effen bee,
Like a big Effen polisman can.
This big Effen polisman he did his nut,
And he ran down the main Effen street,
In his hand was a big Effen baton,
He had big Effen boots on his feet.
The polis got hold of this big Effen bee,
And he twisted the Effen bee’s wings,
But this big Effen bee got his own back,
For this big Effen bee had two stings.
Now they’re both in the Effen museum,
Where the Effen folk often come see,
The remains of the big Effen polis,
Stung to death by the big Effen bee.
That’s the end of that wee Effen story,
‘Tis an innocent wee Effen tale,
But if you ever tell it in Effen,
You’ll end up in the old Effen jail.
And, just in case you think this is really a joke, after all...(link)