Jessie found a centipede
She found it in a pot
And when she pulled it out again
The more-ipede it got;

She pulled and pulled - it grew and grew,
Until before our Jessie knew
A hundred thousand legs, and more
Were writhing, wriggling on the floor

And still she pulled it from the pot -
The more she pulled, the more she got -
And as she tossed it on the lawn,
The far end did a bunk.

It took off fast, it ran and ran
The legs all in a spin
A mile or more, and it meant war -
A race we'd never win.

But as it motored with a sound
Like stampeding giraffe,
It found itself on train tracks.
Not quite so quick in half.