THE BUG

Wrote this in 1981 and recorded it in February 2018.

"Hurry and hurry, oh, little, black crab,
Away from the big fat feet,
Of a morbid and mercurial mind
May render you obsolete. 

As you creep and crawl and stagger and sniff 
Your way across the rug, 
Don't you sense there's danger here 
Might halt the promising career 
Of an unsuspecting bug?

Were my sweet mum to notice your
Quick scuttling scamper 'cross the floor,
The itching skin of superstition
And pestilential recognition
Would brook no white flag or petition
And you would be no more!

So worry and scurry, my pretty black scratch,
For Boadicea's about!
And, though you behave so civilly,
She'd see in you some devilry
You are unaware of, no doubt.

So hurry on little, black dragon,
To some place it's safe to be.
Breeding oftentimes doth rise
To take good fellowship by surprise,
So run from the mother in me!"