Tuesday, January 4, 2011

It's All Old Man Rubik's Fault

Dorrene gave me a Rubik’s Cube
Last year on Christmas Day
I’ve turned and twisted, swore and cried
It’s turned my hair all gray

Clifford wrote some turns for me
I should turn left, not right
But the pattern that I came up with
Is certainly a fright

I finally stop and start all over
It really gives me fits
I think I’ll take the hammer
And pound the thing to bits

If that old guy named Rubik
Would only come around
I’d stand him on his pointed head
And drive him in the ground

If I ever get the problem solved
It should be lots of fun
But by the time I get that smart
I’ll be past Ninety-one


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