Imagination is
Running rife,
In and out
Dark then light
Runaway train
Beaten track
Imagination rife
No turning back.
All the stations
Have gone amiss
Pond is flooding
But got no fish.
Imagination is
Running rife
Along came a spider
With a pint of cider
Still on the beaten track
Im of to the asylum
Im not coming back.
Imagination has been sedated
By these nurses whom I hated
Imagination not running rife
Three red pills have dulled my life.
Imagination lost the quay
Boat has sunk,
I am not free.