The sun quickly faded behind the clouds, too much effort in another weekends dawning

As I was rising, as I was yawning

Talking Heads creating as a madman magician his next trick debating

Thinking of rabbits thinking of hats

What ever happened to the invention of situations?

The TV remains silent, the phone is switched of, another book is opened, so full of life

These are no lyrics, there is no music to these words that creep out and tease, aiming for misdirection with an expectation to please

Looking to the rabbit what magic will he pull from the hat? Forgetting the basics as he climbs back in whilst changing his mind

Elegant dandy 

What dreams shall we find

Turn it up turn it on

Another fine day another great song

Dance like its a Funeral full of New Orleans joy, jazz mixed with blues, this weekend can do nothing wrong 

Good times

The rabbit bounces away

Full of rhythm full of rhyme 

Going to the river

Talking his sweet precious time

Don’t blame him, it’s a nice day 

Good times

      Good times

           Good times 

                Good times

Expectation in misdirection, magic in mysterious finds