Friday, August 24, 2007
Ode to Nitromors
[to the tune of Oh Danny Boy]
Oh Nitromors, the paint, the paint is calling
From door to door, and along the dado rail.
The fumes are strong, and all the flowers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you who've made my nostrils quail.
But you have worked to strip the paint of ages
And made the naked woodwork glow,
Although at times, we had to strip in stages.
Oh Nitromors, oh Nitromors we love you so.
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