The Children Of The Fog Poem by Pierre Rausch

They wondered if they could be broken
Of golden chains dotted with small pearls
For a man of pur science
Then arrange to take the test
Sternly the children of the fog were looking
As if with a fresh surge of blood
Sternly the children of the fog were looking
Walking quickly, almost wanting help
Never mind! They keep on going
With it's plastic bells, the movie house
At the door to the auditorium
Critical of things in store windows
Chorus
That their mind had gone dead
Went to the window and looked down
Always heard of their brilliance and goodheartedness
In a welcome room, in the parlor funeral
Chorus
Repeat
Yes they had been close to her
It took several people to hold them down
That was too short for the fashions
The children of the fog