I don’t wanna be a rooster
I wanna be a crow
Then all life’s interest will be available to me
As I sing about the sowing and the reaping
Of the fields.
I blue and bled it through and through
To the wedding date was asunder and towhit averted
By the end of the tie called the love of my line
Or the end or terminus of the busline that is called the Tallahassee
Oo-la-la no folk but old folk
Time of burlesque and averted eye.
Copyright 2016 Bruce E Saunders