There once was a girl named Pinkie who desired to have a little inky, When the notion of the motion was planted, In her dinky little head. With her butt in the air, While the man in the sidecar...

There once was a girl named Pinkie who desired to have a little inky,
When the notion of the motion was planted,
In her dinky little head.
With her вuтт in the air,
While the man in the sidecar tattooed her derriere 100 miles per hour down I 45 to bike fest.
Drunk and sтuрid and would not listen,
Smeared beyond recognition,
She said it was Tinker Веll but we couldn't tell O well.

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