I followed the sparrows down the hollow tunnels that lead to yellow willows. Feeling mellow I borrowed past rocks off jello to say hello to mole fellows in ghettos of glucose.
So we hung fluffy marshmallows over stuffy fires
We were all looking scruffy but feeling roughly inspired
Probably because our tummies were full of yummy toffee
So it’ll be awfully kind if somebody could play the cello softly
As I began to rumba, I stumbled and tumbled out of the toffee rubble. Someone must have popped my stuffy reality bubble to shuffle me onto this pillow. So when my brain decides to close the windows of my soul again, I hope I dream of yellow willows and mellow cellos.