There was an old man from Duluth
Who wept when he thought of the truth,
Remembering the chances with lots of refinances
and once while at Fon-Du-Luth.
(apologies, as I’m not really a good poet…)
Here is the original:
There once was an old maid from Duluth
Who wept when she thought of her youth
of all the missed chances at her school dances
and once in a telephone booth.
