The Rainy Miasma of My SoulAmidst the muddlement of mint,The Rainy Miasma of My Soul
The tiny droplets of the flooglydy fog amble through
the forest of Freedondledee
Freedondledee Freedondledee
where the spirits of ideas be where all travel free and fresh and new is the key alas green Freedondledee
cross the road of Abdendium
oh the long road of Abdendium, from where the old knowledge come, ever of the hour of the setting sun, ancient of all, Abdendium
the fog travels still it journey free,
to places I’ve been but will never see it
