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Runcible Spoon

heart logo Privacy Notice Gail White

The Owl and the Pussycat on the Lake-Isle of Innisfree

 

The owl and the pussycat sailed away

In a boat of pea-green jade.

Little they knew they were heading into

A hut in a bee-loud glade,

Where all night long the owl would sing

As he played on a small guitar,

“Oh where is the honey and where is the money,

And who has a clue where we are, we are, we ARE,

And who has a clue where we are?”

 

“It’s not what I dreamed of”, the pussycat said,

“Tending bean-rows and beehives all day.

I fancied a more varied life was in store

When we foolishly sailed away. “

“The crickets are fine when you’re ready to dine, “

Said the owl, “with fried onion rings,

But I don’t need the turds of these thousands of birds

When the evening is full of their wings, their wings, their WINGS,

The evening is full of their wings.”

 

“Oh how we regret”, they sang in duet,

“The pleasures of old Dublin town,

Where the pavements are gray and the taverns are gay

And the rain patters steadily down.

We miss the mince and slices of quince

That we cut with a runcible knife,

For here we lie napping by lake water lapping

In frumious exile for life, for life, for LIFE,

A lake-isle of exile for life.”