In the faraway land they call Nothing-To-Do
Sat a marketing guru named Danny McCoo.
Poor Dan was unhappy, for all he could see
In the parks, in the malls (even up in a tree),
Was a bunch of young lovers who swore they'd be true
But as Danny himself said: "There's no one for *me!*"
So he took out his thinker. He thunk and he thunk.
Yet one after another, his ideas all stunk.
But he strained and he sweated, he bipped and he bopped.
He swore to himself that he would not be stopped.
And then, Lord-a-Mercy! His thinker went *clunk!*