THE PIXIE TRANSPORTATION PROBLEM

There was a little pixie named Mike,

He traveled my porch riding a bike,

Riding bike was the sin,

That caused the porch to cave in,

Now when Mike goes anywhere, he must hike.

MY ZAG AND MY ZIG AND MY JAZZ HARP GIG

I agreed with the highway when I made the zig,

I am afraid my zag was a mile too big,

My jeep made a fast roll,

I split body from soul,

I now play funky harp, when I get a jazz gig.

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