As the mother turkey said to her son
(A wayward wee son of a gun)
If your father could see
How you've mistreated me
He'd spin in his gravy... (let's run)
(where is the cranberry sauce)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You are on a roll today, my friend.
wasn't sure about this one but it has grown on me Donna has always resented me spending too much time on the computer but for two weeks I can tire myself out freely