Saturday, October 15, 2011

EIGHT DAYS

Eight days with no brain.
And all eight days
thinking I'm a train.
My mind in a haze.

Going the wrong way
on an up hill track.
About half way up,
keeping sliding back.

Please sit down, sir,
and remove your hat.
This train is brainless.
We told you that.

So don't get mad.
Have a shot of rye,
And before too long
you'll be flying high.






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