I like to find coins, I like to find rings.
I like to find relics, and all sorts of things.
But not everything that comes out of the ground,
Is treasure, no matter where it is found.
For ring sounding signals turn out to be tabs,
And most iffy targets turn out to be bad.
Many wierd things I have dug from the soil,
But one thing I dig always makes my blood boil.
Just what in the heck did the treasurey think,
When they took Mr. Lincoln and put him on Zinc?
For this coin-like object, all shiney and round,
Just turns into crap when it lays in the ground.
The face of the person who set the slaves free,
Ends up with acne and bad leaporecy.
They're claimed to be coins by the folks where they're made.
But to me they're as welcome as pitbulls with AIDS.
All my detectors can I. D. those things,
But I've dug zinc signals and pulled up some rings.
So I guess I'll continue to dig the things up,
Like a kick in the groing when not wearing a cup.
Digging these things is the same kind of thrill,
As eating tofu off a barbecue grill.
When they no longer make them, Then I'll shout hooray!
And in less than a month they will all rot away.
Then hunting for coins will be better. I think,
When we no longer have psuedo-coins made of zinc.
Simple but from the heart, DC
I like to find relics, and all sorts of things.
But not everything that comes out of the ground,
Is treasure, no matter where it is found.
For ring sounding signals turn out to be tabs,
And most iffy targets turn out to be bad.
Many wierd things I have dug from the soil,
But one thing I dig always makes my blood boil.
Just what in the heck did the treasurey think,
When they took Mr. Lincoln and put him on Zinc?
For this coin-like object, all shiney and round,
Just turns into crap when it lays in the ground.
The face of the person who set the slaves free,
Ends up with acne and bad leaporecy.
They're claimed to be coins by the folks where they're made.
But to me they're as welcome as pitbulls with AIDS.
All my detectors can I. D. those things,
But I've dug zinc signals and pulled up some rings.
So I guess I'll continue to dig the things up,
Like a kick in the groing when not wearing a cup.
Digging these things is the same kind of thrill,
As eating tofu off a barbecue grill.
When they no longer make them, Then I'll shout hooray!
And in less than a month they will all rot away.
Then hunting for coins will be better. I think,
When we no longer have psuedo-coins made of zinc.
Simple but from the heart, DC