I’ve got something in my pocket for Polly
She don’t know what it is
If she lays her hand out flat
I might give her a gift
Wrap her in ribbons
Let the bows make knots in her hair

We should swallow the kerosene and increase our potential
To spontaneously combust!

She’s a cuddle lover
Who cultivates the smiles
I’ll take a pack and a peck if you’ve got them?

The sky is dry
The soil is fallow
Everybody is chagrin