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	I'd rather have fingers than toes,
	I'd rather have ears than a nose;
		As for my hair,
		I'm glad it's still there,
	I'll be awfully sad when it goes.

	There once was a hacker named Ken,
	Who "inherited" truckloads of Yen,
		So he built himself some chicks,
		Out of silicon chips,
	And hasn't been heard from since then.

	Archimedes, the early truth-seeker,
	Leapt out of his bath, cried "Eureka!"
		And ran half a mile,
		Wearing only a smile,
	Thus becoming the very first streaker.

	There was an old man of Khartoum,
	Who kept two black sheep in his room.
		'To remind me,' he said,
		'Of some people who're dead,
	But I never can recollect whom."

	Einstein thought that time and space,
	Were linked by universal lace.
		A little tick,
		A little tock,
	Could spin us to another place.

	There once was a writer called James,
	Whose ways with Bostonian dames,
		Was to take them from home,
		To Paris or Rome,
	For dubious linguistical games.

	There was a young curate of Kew,
	Who kept a tom cat in a pew;
		He taught it to speak,
		Alphabetical Greek,
	But it never got farther than mu.

	A cinnamon peeler from Kandy,
	Was the most popular guy in the land.
		Where e'er he would stray,
		They insisted he stay,
	For he made the place smell sweet and dandy.

	There once were three fellows from Gar(r)y,
	Named Larry and Harry and Barry;
		Now Barry was bare,
		As an egg or a pear,
	But Larry and Harry were hairy.

	There was a young student called Fred,
	Who was questioned on Descartes and said:
		'It's perfectly clear,
		That I'm really not here,
	For I haven't a thought in my head.'