Babelfishing Poetry: "Avoid Eating Smoke Of Native Moo"
Hello! And how are you this bright and sparkling New Year? Good, I hope. Here comes the year's first Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, have some fun with the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.
Because the New Year is a time when many people make resolutions that often include trying to stop engaging in bad habits, this week's offering is the Western swing novelty song by Tex Williams, "
Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! (That Cigarette)" (listen to song
here). Enjoy.
Avoid Eating Smoke Of Native Moo
Currently we hold gold-heart people.
Private gentleman WARNING statement.
Techno cooperation from fleas.
If certain character specific marks,
smoke human cigarette people.
My most junior homicide is a gun child.
I eat smoke.
I do not think it can hurt your health.
We sucked the life, died.
Basis guy, one.
Polyester grades.
Avoid eating smoke of native moo.
Above following? Yes. Association?
Fifty. Who allowed woman? Boy.
Mrs. Small Fancy Uptown Train.
Private love, private reach, prix table,
specific east and west, cause
marrow type.
Thou seest, made me cry ice away from me; cry.
Yes, genuine manner, good party.
Private, hand-assisted, made me cry more.
Other one, embracing low pressure.
He and I forgive,
however ultra smoke.
Eat smoke. Ha, u suck!
SUPER SUPER dead from the sub itself.
WARNING: semantic suites.
Wait,
Private January.
.