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


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