Iwazaru

Count to seven in sevens by sevens
Make a thousand cranes
Buy I-Ching and a good astrologer
Make chicory tisane
Look around there’s billions mama
Unpredictable stupid insane
Can’t shake a stick at them mama
Can’t bat them away
Rake the sand in the garden
Bury my dumb head in the sand
Circles in sand, circle the wagons
Make cinnamon allspice tisane
Get thee away you got nothin’ on me
There’s holes in the dike
There’s boats in the moat
Get thee away you got nothin’ on me
Hold on to this sparkly dust mote
You got nothin’ on me and joy to the world
Hush and joy to the world
Hush and joy to the world mama
I only said: joy to the world

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