He places the number into a tube,
A yellow plastic "shoobedoobe".
It says: "Though your fingers may tickle
You'll be safe in our pickle."
Suddenly, black cloud comes down from the sky.
It's a supersize black bird that sure can fly.

The raven brings on darkness and night
He flies right down, gives me one hell of a fright.
He takes the tube right out of my hands
Man, I've got to find out where that black bird lands.

"Look here John, I've got to run
I need you now, you going to come?"
He says to me.


"Now can't you see
Where the raven flies there's jeopardy.

We've been cured on the couch
Now you're sick with your grouch.
I'll not risk my honey pouch
Which my slouch will wear slung very low."


He walks away and leaves me once again.
Even though I never learn,
I'd hoped he'd show just some concern.

I'm in agony of Slipperpain
I pray my undercarriage will sustain.
The chase is on, the pace is hot
But I'm running so very hard with everything I've got.
He leads me down an underpass
Though it narrows, he still flies very fast,
When the tunnel stops
I catch sight of the tube, just as it drops.
I'm on top of a bank, to steep to climb,
I see it hit the water, just in time,
To watch it float away.

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