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This is about a man who just wants some peace and quiet to read his newspaper and a little fly that has other ideas.
Sitting in my rocking chair, I got my paper out;
About to read the headlines when I gave a shout.
Buzzing round my head and landing on my hand,
Was a dirty little fly, one thing I cannot stand.
Rolling up my paper, trying hard to swat it;
Before too long, I realized that I would have to stop it.
I was getting so het-up, my heart was palpitating;
That kind of exercising is just too agitating.
I left a little crumb out on my coffee table,
And tried to read again, surprised that I was able.
The fly was very happy for a little while;
When it sat upon my knee, I couldn't help, but smile.
I found it fascinating to watch it while it washed;
This busy little creature that I had almost squashed.
Every time that I came home, I had to make quite sure,
I wouldn't squash the fly, I even checked the floor.
It stayed with me a day or two and then, it disappeared;
I found it on the window sill, just as I had feared.
Laying on its back with its legs up in the air,
My little friend was dead; I thought it so unfair!
If anyone had seen me cry, they would have thought me mad;
Over a dirty little fly, fancy being sad!
As time went by, I realised that I had not forgotten it,
But when one buzzes round me, I still try hard to swat it!
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