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would siren

The framers boxed me in with heavy hammers

So I sang a song of the sweetest birch bark

And all manner of tender young trees

Soon the valley was filled with beavers

They chewed up my prison

And when they realized that mine was a siren song

They built a dam prison for me

So I sang a song of free power from gushing water

And all manner of decadent use of electricity

Soon the creek side was filled with engineers

They prized and pulled out every stick

And when they realized that mine was a siren song

They sat on the bank and smoked their pipes

We listened to the beavers slapping their tails

As the rising sun burned up the fog that surrounded us

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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About wherearetheheros

just someone my mother might know

2 responses »

  1. Oh I loved this! ๐Ÿ™‚ I am amazed by your diversity . . .and want me some. ha!

    Reply

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