Bill GROGAN (re-observed)

Bill Grogan's goat,

was feeling fine.

Ate three red shirts,

right off the line.

Bill took a stick,

gave him three whacks,

And tied him to,

the railroad tracks.

The whistle blew,

the train grew nigh;

Bill Grogan's goat,

was doomed to die.

He gave three moans,

of mortal pain,

Coughed up those shirts,

and flagged that train.

******

A Boy Scout campfire song that is square in syllables, lines and verses—4x4x4. A cubic poem?