Not my real name.
A man with mechanical arm
Tries to keep folks from coming to harm.
Everything turns out fine
With help from a canine
And his niece, who is loaded with charm.
A young man didn't know how to feel
When he found out the world isn't real.
But with his ragtag team,
In a strange submarine,
He recovered the human ideal.
This famous walrus could rhyme,
With his foot he'd be tapping out time.
He lived in Dakota
And not Minnesota
But was sadly cut down in his prime.
There once was a strange magazine,
Whose readers were mainly pre-teen.
But all things must end,
Though its young gap-toothed friend
Doesn't worry he'll never be seen.
It's a game that is played in the air,
Come and give it a try if you dare.
But be ready to sweep,
And be ready to keep
Flying gold even if it's not fair.
A muscular prince met disgrace
When he tried to make a master race.
He was overthrown, sir,
And he and his crew were
Put asleep and then shot into space.
This busy industrial town
Had never enjoyed much renown.
But now it has fame,
Everyone knows its name,
Because it, in a flash, was knocked down.
When his seven words set folks aflame,
This funnyman shot up to fame.
But time has been kind,
And today you will find,
He's thought of with posthumous acclaim.
A funny and lumpy old face
Of a quite indeterminate race.
But children will play
On him they'll find a way
To stick features all over the place.
This band of young lads playing pop
Had records that all hit the top.
The kids were elated,
But parents all hated
Hairdos they compared to a mop.
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