Flight From Lucifer

Flee the icy Lucifer.

Oh he's an awful fellow!

What a mistake!

I didn't take a feather from his pillow.

Here's the everlasting rub: neither am I good or bad.

I'd give up my halo for a horn and the horn for the hat I once had.

I'm only breathing.

There's life on my ceiling.

The flies there are sleeping quietly.

Twist my right arm in the dark.

I would give two or three for

one of those days that never made

impressions on the old score.

I would gladly be a dog barking up the wrong tree.

Everyone's saved we're in the grave.

See you there for afternoon tea.

Time for awaking the tea lady's making

a brew-up and baking new bread.

Pick me up at half past none

there's not a moment to lose.

There is the train on which I came.

On the platform are my old shoes.

Station master rings his bell.

Whistles blow and flags wave.

A little of what you fancy does you good (Or so it should).

I thank everybody

for making me welcome.

I'd stay but my wings have just dropped off.