Without the Surface We Climb

It’s larger than you bought

It’s bigger than it’s not
How did you manage to get a handle on it?
It’s horns suredly were squeezing violence
With the Jerky Guild admitting to its pleasures while you pin it counter-clockwise
Now what you have managed the handle
Enter it in the cat fight
Enter it in the cat show, you know


Where it’ll find it’s value is there, which is where the twisted plees are heard


And if there’s a time to grapple again, try not to overbake when you can fry them crispy
The dig miners have approached and what should I tell them now? That it’s sent off wired and wrapped?
Or better yet…
“For fool’s gold we march
For fool’s gold we dig
Don’t, don’t let ‘em, don’t let ‘em break the bread”