Timothy Hay

On a cold December, just before dawn

As the sun said "hello" to the sky

The mantis prayed while the lamellicorn tumbled

And rolled in a threadbare tie

The Holland lops in the Callicoon glades indignantly

thumped their feet

And hopped away when they cut their noses on the sharp-

tipped blades

(Since the grass doesn't mind in the least)

The heat pad waiting in the chicken-wire hutch where

the does from the Netherlands stay

But that dry alfalfa don't taste like much and we're

tired of the timothy hay

(hey)

I touched her back, she was lying face down

The dew turned to frost in her eyes

Me and sister Margaret in the pentagon lawn

With our wrists in a plastic tie

While the rats by the tracks on these winter days

Seeking shelter from the cold

Make a nest in the traps of our various ways

That they can save their immortal souls

Oh no, timothy hay

Oh no, timothy hay

Oh no, timothy hay

Oh no, timothy hay

Oh no, timothy hay

Oh no, timothy hay

Please no more timothy hay

No more timothy hay

Oh no, no more timothy hay

Oh no, no more timothy hay

Oh no, no more timothy hay

No more timothy hay

Cold December, just after dusk

As the sun bid its cordial goodbyes

We get splits of pieces like an apple seed husk

To reveal the tree that's been hidden inside

We're a sapling caught in a tattered sirah

At the seams from the shepherd's purse-belt

Broke the news to mom: we found a better Mom

We call "G-d" (which she took quite well)

What a beautiful G-d, what a beautiful G-d, what a

beautiful G-d there must be!

What a beautiful G-d, what a beautiful G-d, what a

beautiful G-d there must be!

What a beautiful G-d, what a beautiful G-d, what a

beautiful G-d there must be!

What a beautiful G-d, what a beautiful G-d, what a

beautiful G-d You must be!