Ah, 'tis a puzzle to be sure ... There was a young lassie from tallahassee ... who traveled north for a gathering. She sang and she sang ... day in and day out ... 'til her lips they were a'lathering. Hairball! Hairball! She cried to the crowd ... the bane of many a singer. So, she searched high and low ... round and round, all about ... and found the perfect zinger. The elixir to be sure was well hidden, it seemed ... but uncover it soon, she did. Southern Comfort was the cure ... smooth and heady to be sure ... and soon the hairball she did rid.

moonchild (with apologies to the real poets of the world)