There is a skeeter on my peeter, and I intend to whack it off
Ant the ghost of you haunts me and my bookshelves
like the Ghost of Easter present the Siamese cat.
you know the one with the ugly yellow spring hat?
The pavement of my youth is old and cracked.
The cartons say the same thing as they did back then
But the rumors they spread aren't the same.
Celebrations of grandeur, celebrated alone
Someone called the goose now it's gone to the dome
Nothing made sense here, least of all the boots
given the clouded structure of Ellison and Moots.
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