This Silly Thing Called Love

Craze comes out of barrel of joy, Joy, what makes you behave coy, Coyness, a thing that would get a toy From the soul, hands of a smart lil' boy That his head bobs in saving his mother, Mother, the filial original not really similar Similar? To the father, rasp voice that quiver From the garden of marital rupture. It'ld linger Over the elms of gut, ebbing with the tide Of bliss ended. Never should beings all hide The love, warmth of family. Filial code to side A broken china, a shattered shuttle that'ld bide Brittle bliss. Come in the evenings and laugh At the debris of the drum, a rumble of cough Upon anodyne ruble of ruin. Feed from trough O! Love if you aren't life. Then live quickly, rough.