The folks bring forth waves
That light up these days
These dogs, these strays
Strange are their ways

Pen, paper and burning midnight oil
Rhyme after verse, relentless I toil
This imp in my mind, his plans I foil
Soon it shall rain, I can smell the soil

Lumbering in the night is this train
We desire pleasure, but we need pain
The hulking beast has been slain
Nothing to lose, everything to gain

Inch by inch, yard by yard
Singing and dancing with the bard
Your precious soul shall we guard
This night sky, so beautifully starred

These words make little sense
At times we can be dense
A quarter, a paisa, a pence
A stone wall, a picket fence