Weird Wild World

Let me switch on the stars,

And paint a fresco on a napkin.

Fix the moon to the sky,
with nothing but a hairpin.

You can straighten out the clouds,

Just take a lint roller,

And use a spatula,

To whip the wind into order.

 

‘Tis a weird wild world,

That cat and priest sang about,

Even a robin swooped in,

And squeezed the humour out.

So just take a fork,

Untangle all the grass.

To make up for the shadows,

All cut half-arsed.

 

Ease the tempo of the clock,

Tape the chorus to the soundtrack,

Call the biplane around,

For this misfit of a playback.

There is a stockpile of breeze blocks,

To quell the bloody dawn.

Tighten the ropes a tad,

I see a ripple coming on.

 

‘Tis a weird wild world,

That Woody is off to capture,

As did van Gogh colour it,

A thing that enraptures.

They say some power,

Made it in seven days.

To which I shake and chortle.

We make it every day.

 

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