TORMENTED BY THE BLUE FOG FARIES

There be a clan of fairies, who live down by the bog,

They buzz around my head, in nights pitch thick, with blue fog,

They have pulled out much of my hair,

I've got bald spots, everywhere,

Once home, I kill the sharp pains, with two pints of red grog.  

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ICY ROADS AND I SEE DEAD PEOPLE

I slid my pickup off the road today into a ditch, and bammy,

I got a little concussion, so excuse me if I sound whammy,

It was a surprise,

My life flashed before my eyes,

I was even greeted by my dear, departed grammy.