Breaking neck of whipper-will,
Excuse my flying beyond this still.
Smiling down from sky on high,
Don't you know you made me cry?
Little pigeon who smiles down,
Breathe your breath without a sound.
It could be laughter, it could be rage.
Romper Room Pinewood Derby mess-kit-training-outfit with a panty hose rope.
I have known the deeper peace,
When it was said you became my grease,
And I will say that motion spoken,
Was only there to be uprooted.
Would you waste the time you had,
To get where dirty dreams get sad?
And could there be an upward spiral,
That collapses the muzzle of roses?
I have heard it said that you,
Came very carefully unglued,
But the tension mounting is only there,
To wake the Dead in Boston.
Itch and Scratch, my only sons,
And one not beside the other.
What do you say to the bell that jingles
With the light of day?
SCA 2004