Cue it, draw back that pole
And aim toward that deep hole.
Keep loose your chubby arms,
You'll see: the 3.

Cue it: sharpen our eye
And watch that red ball fly
Straight 'cross that cover dark and green.

Now, I don't 'mean to bother you, but I've a request:
I wish you wouldn't make the cueball hop to my chest.
You curled the cuestick under and sweet spot you missed,
And that gets me pissed.

So cue it, draw back that pole;
The goal is "in the hole."
Straight shoot, don't be alarmed.
The 3--please hit it, not me.

Cue it: sharpen our eye,
But don't let that stick fly.
Like spear, it might sunder my bean.

That cuestick's like an arrow; it could penetrate me,
And if that should happen, you will defenestrate, see!
So focus on the cueball and there apply your zeal--
Roll it like a wheel.

So cue it, draw back that pole;
The goal is "in the hole."
Straight shoot, don't be alarmed.
The 3--please hit it, not me.

Cuestick is in my eye--
Out the window you fly,
Straight to where my car's parked.
Sorry.

I cue it and clear the 3.
Ball's in; my next shoot:
Cue it--12's in.