MystyrMystyry
01-16-2012, 09:49 PM
In ancestral Arrsupp it always rains up
Lakes are adrift in the air
Nighttime is daytime and daytime is night
Nobody gets their fair share
It's here the Boguns bounce on their noggins
'Gainst wet cushions of cloudy sky
The trees grow down throughout the town
Uptight birds on their backs fly
Asleep on the ceiling their dreams are reeling
These Boguns are never awake
Sleepwalking around, feet off the ground
With bodies and faces that ache
Hair full of louses, their houses with mouses
Eat curried dog on a spike
It tastes disgusting because it is in
Fact, but food that they most like
The river winds upward and then on toward
Council's chambers of bamboo
'I've had an idea!' the Mayor bursts, striking fear
'The Boguns need something to do!'
But he is wrong the silly ning nong
Yet listen I'm afraid he won't
They don't need doing, it's not like glueing
The Boguns need something to don't!
In ancient Arrsupp the sprinklers erupt
To signal an early Spring
While gardens wither the councillors dither
What joy the season won't bring
'We can tax them more, then live it up sure!'
The Mayor snorts with airs
A low bench protests: 'But it's not in their interests!'
'Ah bugger the Boguns - who cares?'
'Keep them needing - not enough to stop breeding -
'The policy on which they elected me!
'Of course not publicized because that'd be hubricide -
'Even I wouldn't have selected me!'
The end of the year is the end of an era
He'll holiday on a boat far away
Taking his ascension with a golden pension -
A nest egg the Arrsupp Boguns will lay
Lakes are adrift in the air
Nighttime is daytime and daytime is night
Nobody gets their fair share
It's here the Boguns bounce on their noggins
'Gainst wet cushions of cloudy sky
The trees grow down throughout the town
Uptight birds on their backs fly
Asleep on the ceiling their dreams are reeling
These Boguns are never awake
Sleepwalking around, feet off the ground
With bodies and faces that ache
Hair full of louses, their houses with mouses
Eat curried dog on a spike
It tastes disgusting because it is in
Fact, but food that they most like
The river winds upward and then on toward
Council's chambers of bamboo
'I've had an idea!' the Mayor bursts, striking fear
'The Boguns need something to do!'
But he is wrong the silly ning nong
Yet listen I'm afraid he won't
They don't need doing, it's not like glueing
The Boguns need something to don't!
In ancient Arrsupp the sprinklers erupt
To signal an early Spring
While gardens wither the councillors dither
What joy the season won't bring
'We can tax them more, then live it up sure!'
The Mayor snorts with airs
A low bench protests: 'But it's not in their interests!'
'Ah bugger the Boguns - who cares?'
'Keep them needing - not enough to stop breeding -
'The policy on which they elected me!
'Of course not publicized because that'd be hubricide -
'Even I wouldn't have selected me!'
The end of the year is the end of an era
He'll holiday on a boat far away
Taking his ascension with a golden pension -
A nest egg the Arrsupp Boguns will lay