The Icing Man's a man I like
He's kind of fun and rarely glum.
When trouble comes he'll stand and fight
He doesn't care by day or night.
And if implored by ladies fair
He'll battle demons in their lair.
There have been times, I've heard it said
When Icing Man was head of heads
That happiness flew far away
And skulking in its hide each day
Refused to listen to his pain
But, when he changed, flew back again
He has few friends but since I'm one
I doubt he'll mind if I go on
To tell you of his special love
The graceful don, historian.
She too is bright and mighty fair,
And fearsome are they as a pair.
The Icing Man oft speaks of care,
Yet sometimes growls at those who dare
Approach him with a hostile air.
A secret, if you find him pleading,
Historian and I are teasing
But only since we know, he finds it rather pleasing