In days of old, the aristocracy
Were dressed in garments ornate and free,
With wigs and extensions, oh so grand,
Fashioned with elaborate command.
But one thing often went amiss,
Their garments reeked of something remiss,
A smell so strong, so rancid and old,
It could make a grown man hold his nose and fold.
The culprit was the resin used,
To stiffen garments and keep them amused,
But when left to sit for too long,
It turned rancid and ruined their song.
So, kids, if you want to dress like a king,
Be sure to give your garments a spring clean,
Don't let the resin get out of hand,
Or you might end up smelling like a garbage can.
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