O cold tingly morning,
don't stand and stare at me,
with those strangely shaped eyes.
...
No food, water or food,
This is a Shortage.
Most dead from starvation,
Some from disorganised pyjamas.
...
Cowardly, dash into place,
No mark see thee,
upon thy face.
Thy gentleman is trapped,
...
The mystical boundary,
Been adjusted.
No martians left
to infiltrate.
...
I am the slotted man,
with trees on his head.
Whilst the bird sings,
i stare at the sky.
...
Not a hose,
Nor the old rose.
In the corner of the room,
It blooms.
...
Only the fair few shall perish,
Over five thousand years it reigns,
The mosquito slaying,
Rabid poker champions.
...
Oh my! I say,
Don't let them stay.
In the midnight rancid situations.
...
Stoner brows,
Not like a cows. He calls
like the midnight owl,
he caws to the sky,
...