A Sunny Sunday
Chirp, chirp from the window,
The red breasted friends wants a home,
Oh,
Nevermind, the magpies sent him to the catacomb
One with a million,
Two pecks at his wing,
He’ll be welcome as a vaudevillian
Three bloodied wells, the poor thing
Four gouges at his eyes
No longer the tweeting blind bard
Five mammoths soar from the skies
Six organs spread like a shard
The red colour of his breast has spread
Seven feathers fly from the ruck
Eight beaks now indulging in the newly bled
Guessed wretched Tweedy didn't have much luck
Nine evil eyed blacked and bloodied birds, each undutiful
Ten feasting each pluck of red scarred implies a schmuck
Isn't nature beautiful ?
