Now, if I could go to the Moon,
I would sing a sweet tune,
And whistle to the heavens and take flight.
Of the soliloqious liberation of the deep seated aberration,
I'll leap in a bound of unpent kinetic walleyed wonder
at the inebriated phantasms
of the wondrous far fetched night.
To storm the beasts of the unknown,
The light fantastic.
I will strip off the yoke of doubt and ignorance,
Devour the apple with covetous greed,
Grasp the serpent by the neck.
Pass the cup. I will place it to my lips.
Fine dining for the obstinate.
I take heed of the wicker wombat wails of the sideshow circus freaks,
And the clownish ushers will lift up their thrillfrilly doilyskirts.
And the mischievous brainclusters
in the eroding riverdowns
sponge up the sweet blue brine.
I'll slip out of the dark shadows
in the slippery dripstained