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Poem	schnyder schnyder the bouncing spider had a song wound up inside her she'd had it taped on a silken spool this was the song she sang as a rule o little fly come be my friend i have fly's gold for you to spend i'll wrap you in silks to make you pretty if you refuse then more's the pity the silk-voice warbled through the wood the best bird-song didn't seem so good but no flies came they were too fly looking through the song to the web's black eye o schnyder schnyder the bouncing spider who had a song wound up inside her passed through hunger to the edge of death the wood stopped growing and held its breath one day the silken web was still and curious flies came to find how ill the spider was – but becoming too daring many got stuck in the silken snaring but schnyder schnyder the bouncing spider who had a song wound up inside her presented thus with a feast of flies cried weakly in anger i despise i despise such dull victims that have no ear for the silken song i keep in here but when in silence this web is wrapped stupid and nosey they all get trapped and the web grew slack in the dying wood the poor flies wriggled but it did no good and schnyder schnyder the bouncing spider who had a song wrapped up inside her spun into herself to disappear he was lost to the world for many a year but whether she meant it or it was a fearful tangle she came out one night in the african jungle she was in a tree quite close to the sun in the topmost branch her web was spun its silken strands in the sun's gold rays dazzled her neighbours into fulsome praise and soon the jungle was wrapt in a sound (as the bouncing spider's song unwound) whose piercing beauty brought dew to the eyes of every creature but the jungle flies no one could tell what the song might mean the song and the web made so rare a screen and schnyder schnyder the bouncing spider who had a song wound up inside her wove her sad magic both day and night the moon and the sun never shone so bright and after the rains had moistened the jungle it wore the spider like a jewelled bangle the jungle flies though soon went mad unable to hear a song so sad they buzzed and bashed uncontrollably every tree bore signs of their mortality it couldn't be guessed on what the spider fed no victim was lured into the sparkling web yet schnyder schnyder the bouncing spider who had a song wound up inside her never stopped singing and the jungle grows to this very day in the song's sad throes but don't go looking for the bouncing spider who has a song wound up inside her what you can't see you can always dream what's song to one is another's scream and each one is born with a touch of fly that can't tell beauty from a spit in the eye and schnyder schnyder the bouncing spider who has a song wound up inside her with intolerable sheen puts the price too high love me or fear me be enchanted or die
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