Masterful Tony rode a masterful pony
Through the streets of the small village fayre
It neighed and it brayed
And clip-cloppity swayed
Without worry, nor hurry, nor care.
Then old Mrs Bunyons, grabbed her sack of onions
And threw it on Tony's young back
The pony cried and it tried
to maintain its fair stride
But collapsed down to earth with a smack.
Said Masterful Tony, “You stupid old crony”
Your sack is too weighty and full
So with a munch and a crunch
He ate onions for lunch
And he rode his way home on a bull.