Im Rhein, da schwimmt ein kleiner Fisch,

so off I went to find my bedoutside was storm and thunder.I dreamed that Chelsea turned seventeenI should have baked a cake,an applestrudel topped with creamand then I’d be awaketo join her with a second spoonand give her mother nonejust wait, young girl, so very soonyour teenage years of funwill be a distant memoryyour parents…

of frank expression.A penetratoris one who loves the freedomof moist, dark dungeons.Accounts Receivingmay like the penetratorand keep it flowing.She said the sigmoidwould be perfect protectionfrom defloration.Saliva drippingcan stimulate the sensesof Porta Nigra.A trap had openedand swallowed him completelythis made him gushy.The thought of beaverssent shivers down his loins andprepared for battle.Part TwoYou went away then.Perhaps…

The bouncer told me later that her name was Sally-Merleand that she suffered since the Fall from bleeding piles.So I, with logic, urged a visit to the quack,to be checked out, perhaps an operation soon,he took me by the ear and said, now listen macno quack ain’t have a look see at her pretty moonso…

the English version, blow me down,had spent a week to translate allinto the Kaiser’s language, on my own.Same time next year it said, a catch, no doubtI dreamed to take the worn out path, of course,the very thought was like a shot of straight morphine,but you, in sober mood, you ruled the damn thing out.Well,…

behind, like angel hair, though green,lifelessness all dressed in Sunday suit,the firemen and cops were busy fretting,and filling in the gaps in giant notebooks.A life was lost again, reasons unknown,the cost to the community was small,the firemen were volunteers, the cops,though on a Sunday here, were all on salary,the spectators, they always come for free,and…

that grants the rights to feathered birdsto sing as did the man from Snowy River.You look the part, it’s the plumagewhich touches on the word ramageso will you sing your song for me?You shall hear mine when I am free.