"dilly" poems
Like a toddler taking maiden steps
The narrow stream moves through the woods
Tripping and falling over pebbles and boulders
Chiming its silver anklets
Forcing itself in irrepressible flow
It thrusts and shoves its way down
Through thickets and a line of ferns
And the tangle of creepers and thorny brambles
Drowning the whisper of bamboo leaves
Its sweet murmur falls in my ears
As an eternal living melody
The cosmic song heard over eons
As the water sluices down the rocks
It becomes a frothing braided torrent
Producing a harsh grating roar
Like the crescendo of a tribal symphony
There it forms into a small pool
With its waves gently rippling
Where birds merrily come to take a dip
And sunning their feathers, fly back refreshed
Sometimes travelling unseen
It suddenly emerges into the open
Cutting its way through cracks and fissures
Never willing to surrender before hurdles
With a bearing immaculate in grace
It sends out waves of pure delight
What joy it is to watch the dilly dally
Of this sedate pilgrim moving to its destination
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 10:07 AM UTC
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Marshmallow factories
Are covered in goo
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Not all of these
Are going to rhyme
Roses are red
Violets are purple
Whoever wrote that
Was an idiot
Roses are red
Violets are blue
My favorite is Discord
Who used to be Q
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you count in binary
You'll never have 2
Roses are red
Violets are blue
MEEP
Roses are red
Violets are blue, da ba dee da ba daa...
Roses are black
Violets are black
Everything is black
I'm Batman
Roses are blue
Violets are red
Something is wrong
With my head
The Math section is red
Social Studies is blue
I have too much homework
I want to cry
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Please don't get stuck
In the spilled glue
Roses are purple
Violets are green
I'm just here revving
My limousine
Roses are red
They have thorns
Don't touch them
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I want to turn this
Into a haiku
Roses are crimson
Violets are the fairest blue
And so fair are you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
That was pretty good
For being written on the fly
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Ridiculous Inflatable
Swan Thing
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I need to sleep
No
you are so And
sweet is Sugar
blue are Violets
red are Roses
Roses are red
Violets are blue
There is no try
Do not or do
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Dab on those haters
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Think I'll paint them
On my shoe
Roses are red, dilly dilly
Violets are blue
Is this copyrighted, dilly dilly
I have no clue
Lavender's blue
Lavender's green
I store my sanity
In a canteen
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I'm too cynical
And yet too cheesy
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Spellcheck doesn't know meep?!?
Roses are rosy
Violets are violet
I want to be
A submarine pilot
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Something something
Pikachu
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Illuminati
They're watching you
Gryffindor's red
Ravenclaw's blue
WHY IS IT AN EAGLE
NOT A RAVEN
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Be mine
I'm desperate
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I don't want romance
Stop asking
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I'm running low on ideas
We're almost through
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
Don't eat too much
Roses are red
Never mind
Life's too short
Eat all the sugar you can find
Roses are red
Violets are blue
You're still here?
Good job you
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Happy Valentines Day
Bye
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 9:41 PM UTC
The leopard and the lion chose to become friends,
For they were all proud of claws on their paws
They each glorified one another for their mighty,
Ability to live on meat of other fauna throughout a year,
They each admired one another for running speed,
They each remained firm and loyal to one rule;
Lions don’t eat leopards neither leopards eat lions.
They felt warmth in their companionship without verve,
Until the time they initiated a certain joint venture;
To hunt an antelope as it was famed to be the sweetest,
Again, there had remained one antelope only in the world,
They dilly and not dallied anyhow about such glittering project,
They both endevoured to set forth by each dawn for a whole year,
Tediously hunting throughout a day, the lion doing a great part,
Setting ambuscades and arduously sleuthing to orient on trail,
The leopard severally fainted in the field due to exhaustion,
On one eve of christmas day, the lion captured the prey,
When the leopard was a sleep shivering in fevers of malaria,
Their prey was a middle aged female antelope with swollen hips.
The leopard was sparked to fire of life by a mysterious fillip,
He boldly requested work, now to help the lion in carrying,
The un-suspecting lion relinquished the carcass to the leopard,
Feat of shrewdness gripped the leopard, he took off
Running away with a lightening speed, the antelope on his mouth,
The lion again began to chase, shouting to the leopard,
To be a gentleman and stop running, for them to share the plunder,
The leopard never listened, he craftily climbed to the apex,
Of the most tall and most slippery tree, he perched at the peak
With the antelope on his muscular mandibles of voracity,
The lion remained at the stem, wailing like a toddler
His family does not climb trees, not even a shrub,
The lion wailed, using all styles of wailing,
Pleading with the leopard to donate even an iota,
Not even a small piece of antelope bone dropped
To drop on the ground for the lion to taste,
Human leopards are not good hunting companions.
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
.
Fazzy moams on wivvel crusts
carry jazms on flocked pavs.
Rinkulled witty over sark
unburcoaled plinks of bloo.
Serry nark are they cronking
and fillipas grapples in kloque.
Verx on spappled gurns are they
torting through gattering weems.
Fernol wend the schism klone
Glolling fast in clutty pawk.
Scenty flox drozzle by teas
Nisting on cowt rinnalled dawn.
Yurish casts of nash pigoon
stoz over hinty-hanty bynum.
When in merdeen lemp quimsy
dilly noff flyx and wempwarble.
For loofin under korots mingle
At the imtem tong fallop.
Shoozy bales of cremp deflate
and gwample rooks the plisties.
©Pagan Paul (22/06/16)
Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC
Like ******* a **** and you can't get hard,
Like rolling a blunt that's full of glass shards,
Like a bowling stunt where the pins are yards,
Away and you must stay put loaded with gin and not on guard,
While there's jaywalkers walking cross the alley and snipers far,
Up both sides, moss covered camouflage dilly dallying,
Falling comets, planets and stars while you ***** black tar out your scars, Sick spurting **** out the pit of your face and tripped on a lace falling down along with Mars.
Faster than my **** grows when I'm hitched, race-cars, bullets, and the suicide of a suicidal emo ***** with a mullet, grab the **** and pull it off and roll it up like the glass when you rolled it in the paper faster than a rapers hips going twitch twitch twitch, ***** you know it, she's on the list.
But you're soft and no fist can fit and what the **** is this about, just **** I coughed up and spout out my mouth, if it makes sense, even a little, I am not dense with my rhymes, raps, and riddles, there's meaning to it all, whether its beaming or dull, but I guarantee it's full and fits and flows when I say it to a T, you say my **** blows, well that's just mean, you say it's great, my confidence ovulates, so use it as bait as I eat off this plate, this 5 star rated treat elevated to six star cuisine meat.
I'll continue later in few poems that are greater and like haters, I won't stop planning and plotting out **** like these lyrics, I'm a creator.
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 8:17 PM UTC
I’m the worst **** in the world
No one is worse than me.
For my next bride,
I shall marry the Queen of She
Ba (Academy presents her majesty.
Nominee gushes.
Audience applauds exhaustively.)
She will manhandle me,
Liquor on her breath,
Feathers framing ******
Inflamed blossoms drenching submissions
She told me to delete
The photographs,
Even though there were many
Caught her beauty in amazing graces.
She hated me
For putting up so little struggle,
Obliterating her splendor
Indifferently.
I wanted to prove
Deserving of her love.
she dilly-dallied, distracted.
I cried pitifully, “Where’s my girlfriend?”
Chain of events to nothingness
My desolate existence
One deficit after another
Honed to fragile cutting-edge.
I wanted her to pleasure me
With subtle painful tinge.
She brilliantly found fault
Every conceivable way to blame.
She accused, “you fiddle in noodle factory.”
She was the true artist,
Dissatisfied with the sound
Of my heart beating.
You want to play hardball with the big boys?
You better show up with bulging intelligent creativity.
You complain about
Every infinitesimal gargantuan thing.
Nothing makes you happy.
I will always love you no
Matter how impossible.
Looking back,
You were an impossible chance.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 10:28 AM UTC
Standing on a busy street corner
When a limo pulls up next to me
Out pops the head of Johnny Depp
(Not the body mind you, just the head)
And asks where's the nearest Dairy Queen
Not one to miss an opportunity
I blurted out I'll show you the way
So that's how the head of "The Depp" and I
Spent time together that day
In his limo he had his makeup artist
Which seemed a bit odd to me
Everywhere the head of Johnny went
It had to dress up for the scene
Since Johnny was drooling a Dilly
First stop Dairy Queen
With Johnny's head as the Mad Hatter under my arm
It was a very strange scene indeed
With me holding onto the Dilly's
And Johnny's head on the counter up front
Mr. Depp was the King at the Queen that day
Though his ice cream licking habit did turn some peoples lunch
Later on passing a Piggly Wiggly
Johnny's head said what's up with that
Told him it's nothing more than a grocery store
His reply was let's give it a crack
So undergoing more of his makeup
And in the blink of an eye
I have the head of Jack Sparrow
In the grocery cart with a bag of Funions by his side
Yes, Johnny Depp's head loves Funions
Which to me really ranks the breath
But who am I to tell a Big Time Movie Star that
I'm not the keeper of his head
He even dressed as Edward Scissorhands
Which didn't turn out quite right
Since Johnny's head has no hands
To hold the famous Scissorhand knives
That day we went to so many places
With every stop a new disguise
I guess for entertainment you do what you can
When all that's left is your head and some of your mind
Whelp, that's about it on this days adventures
Not a whole lot more to be said
As I stood on the street corner waving bye, bye
To the limo pulling off into the sunset, along with the head of Johnny Depp
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 8:19 AM UTC
I'm full of anticipation for life and everything in general,
I'd like to share some thoughts and things,
Dedicate some words to those who still believe in pursuing something of their own,
If you're talking, share your ambition,
Listen to your intuition,
But don't leave me behind,
If you make me feel welcome I'll return the favor,
If you're nice I'll be your helpful long distance neighbor,
Motivation must be key...to be
Something other than a dilly dally.
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
Oh this polite gentlemen,
From ear to ear he's got me smiling.
His arms are strong from everything.
He makes me, just want to, ahhh sing!
Lets talk about those hairy legs,
Find him when he's older, he'll be drinking those kegs.
one day he shall get there,
Hell if I can, but he will i swear.
Later at night, he becomes silly.
Plenty of time to daddle it up, yeah to dilly.
He's got moves to make your legs shake.
Oh for goodness sake.
Take your time, there's no rush.
For him I have a baby crush.
- - - - - - - - - - -
part two of the same poem.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Yes, he's so fine.
Talk bad, he'll keep you inline.
Nothing tragic will set him back,
No he never puts forth no slack.
Curious, he wonders how i work.
Hell, he's even asked me if I could twerk.
Country music, is his forte.
In the mud he enjoys to play.
Catch him riding in his truck.
You're funny if you think he gives a ****
Going here and there.
Catches me looking when I stare,
No room for what i want to say,
Not ever enough time in one day.
(est.j.r.e.)
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 11:02 AM UTC
De ding de de de dilly do
Over and over and over again
That ****** subway surf music
Is driving me insane
Turn it down again and again!
Pushing the envelope
As all kids do
Up goes the volume
Just to Annoy you
But wait!! Crisis
The tablet goes bleep bleep
She cant find the charger
Oh where can it be
Im sat on the ******
HE HE HE HE HE
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 9:30 AM UTC
I am the turkey
You found with the palm of your hand
I am the pigeon
That fooled you for a dove
Alakazam
I am a weasel
I told you before-
My lungs are broken
Like his discarded wishbone
I am that word on the tip of your tongue
I missed my cue
When this cape got stuck to the dangly bit
It was shining
And smelled like "good morning"
I am abandoning my skeleton
I don't like the skin
That it put on today
I took a second helping of determination
Wake me in an hour-
I'll be resting
From digesting
Hold the phone-
Regret made my stomach eat itself to death
Don't Dilly Dally, Dear
I'm the rolling pen
That now lives
In your underwear drawer
I guess you'll never see me again
I'm retracting that statement
Like her claws from my Quacker Factory sweater
Sometimes we all need
A little extra support
Dearest Bones,
Without you I'm a jellyfish
I painted my face this morning
And now it's swimming inside my black tears
The proof is on the front of his shirt
I am your pillow that thinks it's a shrink
I told your hair
It needs to find a new direction in life
Don't believe me?
I'll lie back down
But give me a second-
I'm in the gutter right now
And need to clean myself off
Don't worry, Goose Darling-
A little Vitamin E oil
Will restore your immaturity
From the **** joke
That's giving you crows feet
Oh how I wish
My fossil was void of down feathers
But I frequently find
That I'm tickled inside
And how else would I fly in my dreams
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 5:01 PM UTC
chilly morning wind awakens my skin
her mystical electric blue cat
dances in the daylight
me green fox spirit yogas on the hill
dilly-dallying licking air droplets
dreaming of a sacred light,
the mirror meadow is a sphere of reflection,
A rasta moose and a few gnostic bunnies sit in a drum circle
hashing and workin out a rhythm for the dawn....
Bebop bear bares it's soul in the lapis lake,
meditating on his thankful Mother Nature and her blacklight berry provisions,
Technicolor roses nuzzle together by the water,
velvet vines hug willow trees created of patched fabric
as prink energy embraces the wise tai-chi eagles
atop the ruby mountains.
Serene gardens brush away dirt blankets
fire flowers,
light flowers
lilac compassion illuminate the shade
autumn leaves of time flutter toward sky horizons ......
watercolored wickiups
and spray-paint thipis rest closeby
as the timeline continues to be sewn.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 9:40 AM UTC
My shaft-craft docked I with hers
As in orbit the space shuttle Atlantis,
Before it was by NASA rested:
So up she swallowed of for three
Inexpressible minutes, my darling dilly, --
Just like a shark swallowed up stiff Jonah
For three days in her belly, --in Havana,
Where I was locked in tween her hot thighs,
Heaving out we both extraterrestrial sighs
Upon the green with amours encrusted.
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 11:54 AM UTC
Two-sides, one mind, it isn’t easy to think.
Don’t blink but lip sync the lies fed from your shrink
The missin’ link is tied to the rails of our genes
Tinker with the braille when you rip apart the seams
I’ve seen kingdom come but it's visits are brief
Pay mind to the thief, small talk isn’t cheap
I keep to myself and that man in the mirror
Sharin’ one stare, my character is clear
The gears are still spinnin’ jenny, well enough
Peers leave in a feedin’ frenzy call it tough love
When push comes to shove we rid our resistance
Flexin’ up the shell, tryin’ to counter inhibitions like...
Flight or fight, it's a rite of passage
so you better be able to manage
Flight or fight, it's a rite of passage
so you better get those loose ends fastened
Just give me a second to make my amends
Anchor it down, bound it by fisher’s bend
Let’s pretend that your “friends” are backin’ you up
But the sum of one sums up your lack of trust
Yup, don’t dilly-dally, tally up some bums
If yah in the blind alley at the end of the run
Well you better have a pair of iron giant lungs
For if and when the worst is yet to come
Flight or fight, it's a rite of passage
so you better go and grab a bandage
Flight or fight, it's a rite of passage
so tell me what the damage is kid
© Matthew Harlovic
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
Don't bury children in suits
Let them wear their favorite clothes
Let them wear their favorite basketball jersey
The sweats from the college you can't stand
That **** sweatshirt that you can never get clean
The tire-tracked underwear
Let them wear it all
Let them wear the clothes you could never get them out of
The ones they slept in
Played in
Dreamed in
Just don't bury kids in suits
They're not going to a job interview
They aren't atoning for a lifetime of sins
They're going to the great playground in the sky
They need to be able to run around
Bury them in overalls
In the baseball hat with sweat stains
The pants with holes and grass on the their knees
The shoes with the souls that flap when they walk
Let them wear the straps that the Velcro keeps falling off of and you keep having to put it back on
Put it back on
Put them in the casket
And make them smile with your thumbs
They didn't do anything wrong
We did
We let them down
Don't punish them
Don't bury them in a suit
This is our last chance to do something right for them
Bury them with those candy necklaces they used to shoot across class at the girl they liked
Give them all their Halloween candy back
Fill the grave with hundreds of melting dilly bars
Slip them a ring pop
Please don't bury them in suits
Don't comb their hair
Leave the dirt under their finger nails
Don't fix their collar
Or shine their shoes
Let them wear their Victor Cruz jersey
And for those of us lucky enough to live in one of those small towns the whole world doesn't know how to pronounce yet
Lucky enough to not live in a dangerous city
Lucky enough to trust the locks on our front doors
To trust the bus driver
To trust our neighbors
One more cookie before bed.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 2:16 AM UTC
Beneath blackened earth, where majestic death gave birth..
Lies Sir Roderick so very still.
Claire wanders and wonders if there is something more,
beyond life she can explore...
In a tome of darkened lore
answers were cast at the question.
If only a mild suggestion
of necromantic, a spell.
To take back a soul from hell....
Claire descends in Roderick's tomb.
They will be united soon..
Indeed it is a graverobber's plight, to take care of such a wondrous sight.
Little Claire did not care, as she played with raven hair.
Words dripped from her lips, as she read from the bloodied tome..
The atmosphere drenched in a shivering tone..
going through marrow and cutting through bone.
Lay still your beating heart, let flow your sea of life..
Come back from Death and love thine wife..
A sacrifice with children's blood she gave
Roderick now ascends from his mouldy grave.
His flesh looks putrid and vile..
Dilly, dally the maggots wriggle
Claire comforts with a single giggle.
Now they dance, hand in hand.
They kiss in brittle moonlight
his tongue like broken glass, such delight.
So full of joy was Claire, as Roderick was festering in his chair.
Claire did not care, playing with raven hair.
Roderick still festering, festering in his chair.
Then she nodded, nearly napping, one last spell inside her head.
Command Sir Roderick to share her bed.
Little Claire was nowhere to be found...
Chewing, drooling, smacking....
Followed by a clamour and loud cracking.
Lay upon the bed, Sir Roderick and Claire.
Sir Roderick did not care, playing with her raven hair.
Loathsome Claire was united no more..
Her cannibalized remains
decorated the floor.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
Hey dilly, day-lilies, sing me a song
As I walk past your bed, as I dally along
In the night, lilies, day dillies, I'll pass ere I go
And see petals tucked daintily, forming an "O"
As I pass, dilly dally, as daily I pass
Will you twist your green stems, entertain me at last?
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 9:28 AM UTC
Daily practice was my Catholic Regimen
On those strings
Blooded fingertips
Evolving into
Callused hammers
D 5th augmented, 7th
A transitional dilly
Will be
The end
Of me
Jul 3, 2011
Jul 3, 2011 at 6:50 PM UTC
I miss you but I don't know you
And my name would puzzle you
Yet neither rise your curiousity
Yet you're addictive to me,
This sensation, this adversity,
Sweet, like some iridescent nectar gathered by hundreds of fairies in an instant,
From some magical forest forever showered by the gentle light of the golden hour in the distant...
Albeit the bitter pain afterwards instead,
When reality take back its stead,
Who are you? I don't know
This doesn't make any sense, that I know...
But... if only I can dream a bit longer, for I have dreamed far too long, I know...
But, if there is even a tinier than a speckle of dust of possibility,
In this whole world our universe of unpredictability, please...
I'd like to make our story a reality...
Dilly dally, ***** nilly, talks of dailies,
No roses or daisies,
Just two souls walking together,
In harmony parallel, cruising in life for forever
...
Jun 6, 2022
Jun 6, 2022 at 7:59 PM UTC
While it was raining heavily outside,
Two children in shabby, tattered dress
Stormed into our glass roofed patio
And at the door, for mercy did pause
They said they were out to buy empty cans
To make a living and support their family
The only work they could do at their age
And it was not their intent to dilly dally
I was in no mood to entertain them
As my hands with pending works were tight
A week’s laundry and some shopping to do
But was rather indisposed to send them outright
As I looked onto their starved faces
I felt a hard tug deep from within
After a moment’s thought, when I invited them in
In innocent mirth, their eyes did spin
When I brewed for them two cups of coffee
And gave some homemade snacks to munch
Their little faces bloomed in joy
As if savoring a favorite fruit punch.
All the while their curious eyes went
Flashing from nook to nook and every corner
On my well stacked shelves of china pottery
And the costly gadgets and the gas burner
When they were about to leave
They simply said- “Oh! You are rich!”
Of course a new revelation, it was to me
Something I had never thought over much
Yes, with a roof overhead
With enough means to feed my kids
And with a steady income every month
How rich I am compared to those hapless lads
Now, though many years have slipped by
I reiterate to myself what those children said
‘Oh! You are rich’ lest I shall ever forget again,
How rich I am and this thought keeps me ahead!
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 11:29 PM UTC
She was such a sweet thing.
Barely seventeen,
To my barely sixteen.
Steam was rising from the blacktop,
She was wearing a baby blue tube top
With shorts to match.
A little on the chubby side,
You know I like that,
Before I could think to kiss her
She kissed me.
Like a viper strike she was on me.
Fierce and deep.
Backed up in an alley,
I didn't have to dilly dally with my belt,
I left it on the balcony at Scramble's house.
She had her shorts down before I could blink.
Sunk down...no, she slinked,
like my pants that pooled around my ankles
Standing I entered,
She pulled me in deeper,
Leapt up, wrapping her legs around me
And I held her up against the wall
And I drove my hammer home,
Each ****** a moan.
Rapidly increasing speed,
Infinite fulfillment of need,
You can call it greed,
The way she took my seed.
In that alley we hid and smoked ****
My first child was conceived.
That day I knew she'd be my wife,
Kas came 9 months later,
A little pink beauty with crystal blue eyes.
I can't disguise the love I have for you,
It's true, there were many girls I had had before you,
You were the first one to make me wanna stay.
I lovd you,
This will be true long after the worms have their way with me.
I'll be weighting, for them to come mold cerulean seas
For the flag to be unfurled,
For your face and chest to be pearled,
For the end of the world,
By your side.
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 5:40 PM UTC
If language is a dead space ship between us
if its a sleeping chicken
instead of a casserole,
if it's cold tea,
a fake hug,
if it gets lost in the corners of the ceilings
and never reaches her heart
if it can't ever remove the training wheels
if it only knows dog days
if it will always be a contender
than we must start fires in the stars, with whatever we can
and stop pretending we give a **** about accuracy
or communication or being understood
I don't want you to understand me! Who gives figs for stuff like that any more?
I want you to set stars on fire in my name.
I want you to carve the lines of my body into the bowline of a pirate ship
I want you to not be able to leave the room
tear the bread in half,
don't return the library books
don't ask what I think
and don't stop asking
me to dance anyway. Even if it's an old
fashioned dilly. Even if I didn't
wear your mother's
dress, or ever can anything, even the
beautiful tomatoes that covered the red
clay. Ask me.
No matter what I say.
Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 1:49 PM UTC
Standing on a busy street corner
When a limo pulls up next to me
Out pops the head of Johnny Depp
(Not the body mind you, just the head)
And asks where's the nearest Dairy Queen
Not one to miss an opportunity
I blurted out I'll show you the way
So that's how the head of "The Depp" and I
Spent time together that day
In his limo he had his makeup artist
Which seemed a bit odd to me
Everywhere the head of Johnny went
It had to dress up for the scene
Since Johnny was drooling a Dilly
First stop Dairy Queen
With Johnny's head as the Mad Hatter under my arm
It was a very strange scene indeed
With me holding onto the Dilly's
And Johnny's head on the counter up front
Mr. Depp was the King at the Queen that day
Though his ice cream licking habit did turn some peoples lunch
Later on passing a Piggly Wiggly
Johnny's head said what's up with that
Told him it's nothing more than a grocery store
His reply was let's give it a crack
So undergoing more of his makeup
And in the blink of an eye
I have the head of Jack Sparrow
In the grocery cart with a bag of Funions by his side
Yes, Johnny Depp's head loves Funions
Which to me really ranks the breath
But who am I to tell a Big Time Movie Star that
I'm not the keeper of his head
He even dressed as Edward Scissorhands
Which didn't turn out quite right
Since Johnny's head has no hands
To hold the famous Scissorhand knives
That day we went to so many places
With every stop a new disguise
I guess for entertainment you do what you can
When all that's left is your head and some of your mind
Whelp, that's about it on this days adventures
Not a whole lot more to be said
As I stood on the street corner waving bye, bye
To the limo pulling off into the sunset, along with the head of Johnny Depp
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 3:20 PM UTC