The Pax numbered a dozen
a small crowd at Shank for sure
The chatter was a buzzin’
about the Q who liked to tour
He looks a homeless drifter
and his shape is kinda round
On his face a few whiskers
no way this dude can throw down
Off we went through the gate
after a short prayer
Quickly we began to hate
that Q with little hair
He is confused, delusional
he missed the burpee plane
He doesn’t know the count at all
he went to 38!
Between Notebook’s awkward count
and Knozit’s off-beat claps
There is little doubt
that this COP will collapse
Now we’re at another spot
on this stupid soccer pitch
Bulgarian, Turkish say what?
Coon Dog is starting to B…complain
We load each hand with a brick
ready to be deployed
A merlot mile will leave you sick
with bricks we’ll be destroyed!
round and round we went
with a burpee at e’ry pole
Now my I find my arms are spent
and I’m sweating from my soul
Finally we make it
the bricks are tucked away
everyone’s ready to quit
wait, he’s running that way
Over to another spot
the lumpiest one around
Now that stupid Q has got
us flopping on the ground
First a planking movement
then turning to our sixes
There seems to be an awful scent
someone crapped their britches!
The time is up to finish
did he say burpee plane?
I came here for some fitness
but this is just profane
The clock hits 15 after
we’re finished with his tricks!
The Q says it don’t matter
and calls for flutter kicks
Back to where we began
finally done with that crap
Let’s give the Q a hand
he really deserves a slap