Art, a couple of corrections:

I am, I was, I'll be
A great sharpshootress.

And anything else that's helpless.

I once wrote a song for my younger brother's 10th anniversary as pastor of a church using the tune and poetic structure:

I've got a brother and his name is James;
He's fond of playing egghead games
Like bridge, and chess,
And ring-around-the rosy.
He knows his Bible inside out;
He knows what sin is all about--
He's an expert, just ask him--what he can't tell you,
He'll show you.

After a verse about his wife, I put in one about his sons:

Their union is blessed with three little boys
Who never make excessive noise:
They're sweet, they're polite,
They sleep through all his sermons. I think I had two or three others. --seed