Lichen, the bees and a fortress of weeds in a small town venture
Only the stale and a quart of an ale and a cold intention
Over the lawn and the rail
And only to gather the mail
He likened to me but I wondered if he were to see
Liken the bees and the matters that please to a small back bencher
Caught with the maid with her hair in a braid not the one he mentioned
Lichen and bees in the walls and the fevers of small town ventures
Sparrows and freight at a quarter to eight and a man who mentioned
Over the lawn and the rail
And only to gather the mail
He likened to me but I wonder if he were to see
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