Always Quit It With Flowers
The heads did bid me to the place
For a toll of thirty and some.
Where the trees are green,
The earth is brown,
And all the flowers flourish in-between.
With heed I rolled about the place
For a spell of three and some.
Under that canopy of distress,
On the tough stomping ground,
A nightmare with a business address.
In a show I did depart that place
With plaudits of three hundred some.
Bandit blooms and much miff filled my stage,
But by and by none came to bat for me,
For fear of turning the page.
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