Vibes tell them where the flutters are tingling from
show them its not from their brains for there's now't there
they feel the flutters and it hots them up uncontrollably
but they are confused as hate wires is a by-passing conduit
the real story is primeval and the big mahogany log is the why

Unfulfilled and divots and tunnels seeking attention and work
these little golfers lack that drive and putting is just so shallow
but there's a giant with tales of axes magical that grinds the turfs
and when the swing is in motion the rhythm takes two to the clouds
fantasies ablaze and flutters twitch and burn signalling tingles in play

look to the obsession and behind it all is a cry for release down pits
desires for a long cane sturdy and sure to rout and plunge into flames
dream boat that will sail a vibrant peninsular to take them all the way
its all about those flutters that twitch at thoughts and contacts made
if hot words hit and shivers run the masks they wear covers it all

Mahogany the king of the forest for it shines with strength and holds
fitted nicely it sure does the job and those tales confirms that's true
so the birds hoover around singing songs of cutting down the giant
while in quiet spaces they open dainty boxes and dream of fulfillment
willow or pine or sycamore just can't match, yet they lie and flutter so