1800
Dismayed we contingent to accept the borders,
The leaven Monday of secret hoarders,
Throughout the dyes of the black sky right away,
Dirty deeds of the mind atmosphere to take the blame,
Her earth trembles the red notational guard,
Enough rise to go around demonstrations of rot,
Pops gold chain kept hidden in the attic,
Red eyes of sheets stealing jars of candy,
Mumbled is the glow to eject pops,
The tables turned by generation of clocks,
Refresh your senses as I take the flight,
Thrill the black panther, nor kill the red lion.
