The Jumperwashy

Twas busted
and the slurpy works did grind and grumble in the box.
All wonky were the front controls and the foam wraiths ate socks.

Beware the ac shock my son, the wire that sparks, the light that pops,
beware the drive belts edge and shun the fuming junction box.

He took his screwdriver in hand, long time the gremlin foe he sought,
so rested he by a kitchen stove and stood a while in thought.

And as in complex thought he stood, the gremlin with its fuse aflame
came swirling from the grinding box and smoldered as it came.

One two, one two, with brown and blue his wire cutters went snicker snack.
He stopped it dead with tin and lead and went perspiring back.

 And hast thou slain the gremlin lad, Oh! dirty shirt and sockery,
 tis washing day caloo calay they chortled in their jollity

 Twas mended
 and the slurpy works did swirl and twizzle in the box.
 Responsive were the front controls and the foam wraiths cleaned socks.