Mr. Shisler, the whistler had a lovely shrill
As he sat just over the hill.
And when he puckered and blew his sound
Everybody would come from all around.
They shake their bones cause they couldn't sit still,
When Mr. Shisler would trill his shrill.
The one night, Mr. Snoot, the brute
Came over the hill playing his flute
Well as soon as heard Mr. Shisler's trill
Mr. Snoot, the brute screamed with ill will
"I am the best on the hill"
"Mr. Shisler has a very foul toot,
For I Mr. Snoot can play a more beautiful flute"
So a contest was set a day before June
To see who could blow a more beautiful tune.
On that day as the crowd gathered around
To hear who had the most lovely sound
Would it be Mr. Shistler, the whistler
With his trill of a shrill
Or Mr. Snoot, the brute
With his toot of a flute
The crowd became quiet and you couldn't hear a word
When the most lovely of loveliness sound was heard
But the sound was far and above the hill.
It was not Mr. Snoot or Mr. Shistler's trill.
It was high above and into the sky.
Why it was the birds just passing by…
Thomas schroyer
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