Riding the noises in the forest fae
Spiders, birds, books, wombats, nerds
Strange library, evergreen, oh don’t mind me
Pinky promises flowering essence, cool Ghostly presence
Little strange new dreams of machines, none of them clean
Rocky colors, shook the duller capture
Fresh kill to the bones of the Trill, they’re after the carrion fill
Hot cups, gimlet luck, blue blood, true mud
Flicking others, shadows like cothered muffeled mussel
Dripping with spite their is the spike, and the hill of the place of the armsted respite
Besides that their it is, a spokesman for the next new species
A fairy and a robot, a gathering thought, waves
It’s hand is up, sucking on the teat
Newborn, but not a newcomer
How quickly will it learn?
Of the spiders, birds, books and nerds?