Poem, spoken in slang. Poor Mr. Egg Poor Mr. Egg , what was he think'n? To go up that high, well he must've been drink'n. See Poor Mr. Egg was a shell of a man. Why he climbed that great wall I'll never understand! He climbed to the top , wen way out on a ledge. He said, Hey!, "Look At Me!", as he leaned over the edge. Yes he sat on top of that great wall and waved all the passers by. They waved back at him and I'm sure they wondered why. After all, who in the world was he try'n to impress, was it his wife, or just another egg in a dress. Regardless of all of the reasons why. I tell ya, for a egg, he was just to blame high! For the strong, winds, they came and he rocked forward then back. That is when I saw him fall and heard him crack. Oh!, I ran to the scene with my pan and my short little legs, because noth'ns better, my friends than ham, with eggs.