The Villain Ella

The West was once plagued by that Villain Ella,
Who wouldn’t stop at any heinous crime.
Her face so foul she couldn’t get a fella.

She spent her days in bars and drunken revels.
She wouldn’t show a man a decent time,
And cussed as though she was possessed by devils.

She was so fat she jiggled like some jella.
Her skin was of the color of a lime.
Her face so foul she couldn’t get a fella.

One day she sunk to even lower levels.
She dressed up like some fancy Frenchman mime,
And cussed as though she was possessed by devils.

Ella couldn’t dance a tarantella,
She didn’t know a single purty rhyme.
Her face so foul she couldn’t get a fella.

Her coffin sported many bulging bevels.
The hangman didn’t make a single dime,
And cussed as though he was possessed by devils.
His face so foul he couldn’t get in revels.

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