In garden's depths where bees and birds reside,
Little folk dwell, their population mushrooms.
They beg you to join, their secrets to confide,
Beware the call of these evil legumes.
In the city's heart, a silent halt shall be,
Queensway forsaken from seven to three.
The crimson serpents bypass in their flight,
Sabbath travelers diverted, awaiting ev’ning light.
From lands of Jelena where dragons wait,
An army shall ride towards the teutonic sky,
With wings of flame and voice that seals the fate,
The twice headed eagle shall make the cats cry.
When the winds of politics fiercely blow,
Holly Valance's future takes a solemn throw.
In a strange twist of fate, a tractor's cruel dance,
Her left arm lost, in an electoral trance.
In Lambeth's fields, the mud will rise,
Dysentery strikes, casting darkened skies.
Yet amid the turmoil, hope will gleam,
A spark of light within the somber scene.
Par quarante ans l'Iris n'apparoiftra, par quarante ans tous les iours fera veu: La terre arride en iîccité croiftra, et grand déluges quand fera apperceu. 00:30 5 June 2022