We've done it before, we'll do it again,
Our love knows no bounds, let the poem begin.
Morbo, we need you, so we asked for a date,
And to our surprise you said, "I can't wait!"

Down in the grey moors, our date was a dream,
We said, "Look at the mill pushing the water down stream."
We looked really stupid, acted like a jerk,
You loudly declared, "That's not how watermills work!"

Cheeks flushed with shame, our heart was so sad,
We ruined the date, made you so mad.
But you were so kind, forgave us at last,
Said, "Don't worry about it man, it's all in the past."

Our heart swelled with vigor, we had so much hope,
We tore off our clothes, pulled out some rope.
We wiggled a little and blew you a kiss,
You backed away slowly, said "What is this?"

We didn't see your concern, we had no clue,
We said, "We're feeling frisky, how about you?"
And that's when you ran, turned tail and fled,
We got so embarassed, our cheecks turned red.

Why do we do this, keep losing this game,
It's always our fault, we've no one to blame.
We're sorry dear Morbo, we've caused you such strife,
Guess we'll be alone for the rest of our life.

Penned by my hand on the 14th of Avechary, in the year 303 CE.