A Poem

Antonio, Antonio

Antonio, Antonio, was tired of living alonio.
So he though he would woo
Miss Lissa-meeloo
Miss Lissa-meeloocy Malonio.

Antonio, Antonio, hopped on his polo ponio
and he found the fair maid
in a bowery shade
a-sittin' a knittin' alonio.

Antonio, Antonio said, "If you'll be my ownio,
I'll love you true
and I'll buy for you
an icery-creamery conio."

"Oh, nonio, Antonio! You're far too bleak and bonio.
And all that I wish
you singular fish
is that you would quickly be gonio."

Antonio, Antonio, rode off on his polo ponio,
and he went and hid,
or I'm told that he did,
in the Antarctica zonio.