It's the eleventh hour
Time for all to rest
Although it tastes quite sour
I hope for all the best.
Deeper, deeper, getting bitter
Losing all the sweet
Stronger, stronger, getting louder
Faster goes the beat.
I meet the one of in-between -
A line and a nonagon
I see the one not usually seen
By zombies of the dawn.
Itchy, itchy, getting spicy
It's getting worse and worse
Guilty, guilty, it's so salty
Suffering this curse.
I hear the rooster do his thing
Apollo sneaks a peak
My finger plays with my ring
I have to take a leak.
Tardy, tardy, it's quite creamy
Oxygen missed my chest
Lovely, lovely, i say proudly
The moon failed my request.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem