Flights of fancy


Red Rover Red Rover send heartache right over, my heart’s run afield and my mind’s in the clover. And I don’t know whether to scream or pull over, I’m driving it down to the brink. And I think I’ve a mind (or a half, so to speak), to patch up the holes that my heart’s sprung in leak and give it a thought, or maybe just leap-and pray to hell and high water I fly. I’ll flip all the world the bird going by (providing that is, I don’t die). From a flight or a fall, I’ve no sense   of it all, and there’s no sense in bringing me down. No sense in a rush, whether impact or brush, it’ll come soon enough that I’ll ground.


About Keats

Oh I'm sassy and I'm sexy, So silly sweet-and-sour Delightfully disastrous And deliciously dour I'm flippantly foolish, Filled I am with fear Can't concentrate completely, and my conduct isn't clear But to bravely be my best I Bring bravado back, BEHOLD!

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