Granny had a smart goat
that heard you when you called
and answered his name with a bleat.

We called him Billy, not because he
was a billy goat but because he had
a beard like dad’s runaway half-brother Billy.

This other Billy, Billy the human,
dad’s half-brother, he wasn’t smart
like Billy the goat. He ran away
from home because he wouldn’t
marry a wife.

Billy the goat? Smart kid.
All of Granny’s she-goats
belonged to his harem.