Webster's Progeny

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Finnegan lived in a house by the sea
Where I couldn’t see him but he could see me.
He would spy on me frequently by night and day,
Swearing under his breath in an elegant way.

His wife was called Sally, he hated her guts,
She talked in Italian, it drove him half nuts.
He asked me once why she talked foreign at home,
I told him it’s probably as she was from Rome.

8. Finnegan
(Heikkilä - McGowan) To anyone who lived in fear that there may not be Tarja on this box: relax. She's here. Making this short poem worth to live. I play guitar, bozouki and banjo, my favourite bunch of string instruments --Jore

Poor Tarja - stuck with another of my silly poems. I can imagine her shaking her head as she read this but I think her deadpan vocal suits it very well -- Davy