Granny smelled geranium,
Started feeling kinda bum,
Thought she had a garden blight,
What she’d found was LEWISITE!
Never take a chance, my friend,
If some garlic’s in the wind
Don’t think Mussolini’s passed –
Man – you’re being MUSTARD gassed!
Apple blossoms lend their smell
To the sadness of farewell,
It’s O.K. if you feel blue,
But TEAR GAS starts you sobbing too.
Father was pleased that Sunday morn
To note the aroma of fresh cut corn –
Cried little Willie – turning gree –
Grab your mask, Pop – that’s PHOSGENE!
Said the flypaper to the fly –
“You look sick enough to die –
That ain’t flit you’ve chanced to sniff
It’s CLORPICRIN one small whiff”