The people upstairs all practise ballet Their living room is a bowling alley Their bedroom is full of conducted tours. Their radio is louder than yours, They celebrate week-ends all the week. When they take a shower, your ceilings leak. They try to get their parties to mix By supplying their guests with Pogo sticks, And when their fun at last abates, They go to the bathroom on roller skates. I might love the people upstairs more If only they lived on another floor.
I once asked my grandfather how he'd lived so long He smiled and said; "I sprinkle a little gunpowder on my cereal every morning."
I always thought that was a little weird but he did live a long life and left a great legacy; a thriving career, loving wife, seven children, sixteen grandchildren, two great-grandchildren, and a massive hole in the crematorium wall.
A small piece of sodium that lived in a test tube fell in love with a Bunsen burner. "Oh Bunsen, my flame," the sodium pined. "I melt whenever I see you," The Bunsen burner replied, "It's just a phase you're going through."