You may hunt for a runt,
Kick a punt way out front,
But you'll never find a rhyme for month.
You may pilfer what you will for
Some dill you may kill for,
And never find a rhyme for silver.
You may drink a tea that's herbal,
Burble at a gerbil,
And still not find a rhyme for purple.
You may cringe or show courage,
You may throw away your porridge,
But you'll never find a rhyme,
It's a shame it's not a crime,
But you'll never find a rhyme for orange.