"Flee the icy Lucifer, oh, he's an awful fellow!
What a mistake I didn't take a feather from his pillow.
Here's the everlasting rub: neither am I good nor bad.
I'd give up my halo for a horn, and the horn for the hat
I once had.
I'm only breathing; there's life on my ceiling. The flies
there are sleeping quietly.
"Twist my right arm in the dark; I would give two or
three for
One of those old days that never made impressions on the
old score.
I would gladly be a dog, barking up the wrong tree.
Everyone's saved; we're in the grave--see you there for
afternoon tea.
Time for awaking the tea-lady's making a brew-up and
baking new bread.
"Pick me up at half past none--there's not a moment to
lose.
There is the train on which I came; on the platform are
my old shoes.
Stationmaster rings his bell; whistles blow and flags
wave.
A little of what you fancy does you good (or so it
should).
I thank everybody for making me welcome. I'd stay, but me
wings have just dropped off."