Row, row, row the boat.

It’s such a Motherfucker, that it requires no rowing, thank the gods. Or Poseidon. Does he control all waters, including rivers? Or does he pass down the smaller waterways to minions?

Gently down the stream.

So many streams, so many dreams, I wish I could concoct a cure for what ails me. Wet with sweat, I try to correct what I forget, but Lethe’s waters leave me drenched in nothingness.

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily.

There once was a town with a big house, the women in it were drab like a mouse. The town was not merry, until there was sherry, then every girl smelled like a souse.

Life was like a dream before the dead started to walk. Twill be a nightmare when they learn how to talk.