Oh, Well

From the sorriest hovel,

Me friend scored a shovel

And proceeded to dig

While dancing a jig.

At some risk of to bore ye,

That is not the end of me story:

When he lighted a cig

With a right handy sprig,

Abrupt he fell into his well-dug hole

And blew clean past a bunking mole

While on his way to loathsome hell

And thought aloud, “Oh, well.

So really what can one expect,

It’s said with utter disrespect,

Of one who’s such an infidel?”