Post by AquarianM on May 17, 2012 2:10:07 GMT -5
As The Wild Onion Fidgets...
You can feel it in the air,
A buzzing saw of tension under the skin of the night,
People trying to watch everywhere out of the corner of each eye,
Stranger cases than ever roaming in great numbers,
Cars with plain black rims all over joy-riding,
The clock keeps ticking all over town,
The Greyhounds are bounding,
Drum-skins taught with impending pounding,
A true frazzle razzle dazzle,
They say it's going to be hot this weekend,
Long about eighty-five,
And I hope the Wild Onion doesn't fry,
In its self-imposed bucket of NATO sauce.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 05/16/2012
Note: Chicago is the native tongue for "Wild Onion."
You can feel it in the air,
A buzzing saw of tension under the skin of the night,
People trying to watch everywhere out of the corner of each eye,
Stranger cases than ever roaming in great numbers,
Cars with plain black rims all over joy-riding,
The clock keeps ticking all over town,
The Greyhounds are bounding,
Drum-skins taught with impending pounding,
A true frazzle razzle dazzle,
They say it's going to be hot this weekend,
Long about eighty-five,
And I hope the Wild Onion doesn't fry,
In its self-imposed bucket of NATO sauce.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 05/16/2012
Note: Chicago is the native tongue for "Wild Onion."
