Make way; make way I’m coming through
I’ve got a bin I’m more important than you
I’ve got to get up over that hill
I’ve got to get down to Yonderville.
The bread is baking basically
The hens are laying hastily
All is chaos; all is still,
All is here in Yonderville.
Sprouts are sprouting from the flood
A cow walks with a staff of wood
There’s a church but not a single mill
Right down in here, in Yonderville.
Stars are shining with the sun
All the children are having fun
Nothing’s a bore; everything’s a thrill
In this my town of Yonderville.
The library’s loud not quiet here
Ghosts and ghouls you cannot fear
They’re pacifists; won’t give you a chill
In this pleasant town of Yonderville.
The sky is orange, what a rush!
I’ve started talking to a bush.
I think maybe I took the wrong pill
And that’s why I’m here in Yonderville.
© Kris Blackburn 22/05/2005