childhood

Song for my own personal amusement in a key upon which I’ve yet to decide.

the conscience of my childhood daze
was played on wooden spoons
by happy wooly spiders
itsybitsying cross the room
the form it took, a ballad pure
sung in sunny smiles
and if your hair is flared enough
i’ll sing it for a while…

ohhhhhh…

don’t put your hand in the fire
and never jump off a house
and if it’s long life you aspire
be sure not to swallow a mouse
don’t pull a face in a windstorm
and never eat cakes in the rain
but get out of the bath ‘fore the plug’s pulled
or you’re bound to be sucked down the drain.

sha la la la lee.