He wove a sash of chocolate
He wove a sash of ice
When asked to choose which one to wear
He said, ‘They’re both so nice.
I’ll wear them stuck together
with a paste made out of rice.’
And off he went down the lane trotting like a collie
He paused beside a prickly bush and trimmed his sash with holly
When he was gone for good and all, relieved was his wife Molly
Now she was free to spend all day not being sad, but jolly
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