KatsuForPresident

A Grampa Moved in Just down the street I thought that he was really neat He had big feet. He wore big clogs Made of wood And, Just like every Grampa should, He invented, Just because he could. And he always said, As he scratched his head, He said, “Timmy, m’boy, I think it’d been keen, If only, If only, I could’ve seen The Test Flight Of the Daisy McQueen.” “Grampa Sam, or Grampa Joe,” (he had so many names, I didn’t know Which one was really real, so I called him them all, and he didn’t mind. Their total number? Ninety-nine.) “Grampa,” I asked. “Who was he?