There was an old man,

who lived by the sea.

His name wasn’t Hook,

His name was not Shmee,

His name was not known,

Not even to him,

For the sake of the story,

Let’s just call him Jim.

 

Now Jim was a man

with very few knees,

a couple at most,

Poor Jim just had two.

He used them each day

to move all around

they took him to work

but they made funny sounds

and then Jim woke up one terrible day

the birds were all chirping,

and a knee ran away.

Jim looked all around

His messy old house,

He found some dust bunnies,

And the corpse of a mouse.

But his noisy old knee he never could find.

He began to shout out!

He began pouring wine.

He poured so much wine

That he forgot his knee,

And when he woke up

he felt like he’d lost three.

 

He had only a couple,

From the very start,

But his knee that he had

Hid in a place smart.

 

Not in the cereal,

Not in the den,

Not in the one place

He would look again.

 

His knee was attached

But it wasn’t quite there

And every day Jim wondered

Where it could fair,

To have a leg proper

And fine as his leg,

But Jim couldn’t find it,

..so he ordered a keg.

Then late in the night,

old Jim found his stance,

he started a jig,

to an old country dance,

his leg worked the same

as the one he once knew

but then in the morning

his other leg flew.

Jim wondered a moment

Just what he had done.

Had drunk until sunrise

And somehow he’d won,

But there in the process

had left one of two,

of his closest companions,

he had only a few

but without a good knee

he had only two few.