Sing it with me...
127 ears of corn on the counter.
127 ears of corn.
Take one down,
Boil it around,
Cool it down,
Cut it off the cob,
Put it in the freezer,
Attempt to write a poem and run out of words that rhyme with down and you're too tired to really put any effort into it.
126 ears of corn on the counter.
(I couldn't get them all in one photo. They were spread out from one end of the kitchen to the other.)