Drunken Dream Catchers

Medusa’s on the table

Dancing on Scarecrow’s brain,

While Tin Man’s in the corner mending his heart,

As the new girl before the mirror waits in vain.

Paul Bunyan’s on the shelf

Sowing his wild oats,

As Babe the Blue Ox forges lakes,

Where the loons can crack their jokes.

Liquored up and saddled in,

The characters take their shots.

One by one they fall,

As the Natives cast their lots.

Plucking their feathers from their brows,

They weave a web to hang above their heads,

So their dreams sift over the moon with ease,

As nightmares vanish in their drunken & lonely beds.

The Yellow Brick Road will lead us home

To a place we’ve never been.

‘Til the sun sets in our souls

As we take a swig …

And do it all over again.

 

 

 

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