comet and hilde's naybore's a real pill, she's ill, she build a fence, still, she's mean, like a mini-trump, tilted with a short leg, she sics her terror terrier at us still, and her squeaky laff tilts, she tilts for trouble like trump, her last dog died of cancer and rancor a sacrifice to the puny fire of her hate i can't rhyme it all, i still call her the cancer bitch.