> And so, continuing in prose,
We now indulge of young Boo's nose...

Which must be surely froze
Beneath these chilly winter snows
Which now the artist upon us bestows
Complete with sad girls in tow.
But of his nose, well, no-one knows,
(Boo, I mean, not our Piro)
In this cold, 'tis like a rose,
See how charmingly it glows!

But look instead at dear Boo's eyes!
Yet more aglow, there's no suprise!
He's such a lovely little guy,
Yet still I often wonder: "Why
Would someone such as Boo advise
A human who is so unwise?"
Perhaps, if young Boo really tries,
He'll prevent a terrible demise.

But now, as Boo away must go,
I dream of Erika's fine elbow...

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