What with spirits so festive,
Even to snuggle is restive,
As it plunges, the mercury,
Blanket, my only security.
As it plunges, the mercury,
Blanket, my only security.
A bowl of hot, spicy soup,
A cup of steaming coffee,
The yens in an infinite loop,
As the cold does swathe me.
A cup of steaming coffee,
The yens in an infinite loop,
As the cold does swathe me.
I need a novel distraction,
One that still has a focus,
I shouldn’t miss the action,
One that still has a focus,
I shouldn’t miss the action,
Though I’m of the parade bus.
I guess I know where to look,
To conjure up a notional fiesta;
If unreadable is the book,
It’ll yet be a
gateway to a siesta. If unreadable is the book,
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