He looped the rope 'round the first rail
in a fashion he'd learnt once in jail.
But for counting the turns, he had never quite learned.
And he thought his knot destined to fail.
So he called to the fair-maiden-lass,
who had watched the entire morass.
"The turns are but FOUR," she cried, yanking the cord
and securing the rails to her ass.
Now a thankfulnees filled him with glee
Such he thought he might let the girl free
But he felt it quite rude, her uncouth attitude
And decided to just let her be.
"I'm sorry," the lass finally cried.
"As am I," the man said as he sighed.
And as he loosened her wrists, she leaned in for kiss...
In the process, becoming toungue-tied.
And 'fore they could finish their smack
A shaking was felt on the track
Till the whistle and bell sent them both straight to hell
Never to find their way back
