Cleanliness

I The little pigeons full of whimsicrap used to come and go flying over Paris giving its walls an exquisite shade of avian poop grayish in tint never suspecting poor innocents that a devious plot waits for them below now they are trapped! they are not happy adieu Paris! adieu my beautiful city says the pigeon sent off to the country I will no longer crap on your Hotel de Ville I will no longer crap on your proud monuments such sadness, I weep to think of it, to waste such fine excrement which could have buttered the homes of my native city eating away at the cement brick concrete marble flint yes, cries the pigeon to himself, I am quite proud my turds are virulent PH acid adieu my beautiful Paris adieu my dear city I leave for my exile in a paddy wagon I will forever retain amidst the hicks the indelible image of the charm of your streets