When the rhymes comes, you will know if we are right
As the subtle sun and murdered moon re-light
Agents of the devil eat the stars
Use them indeed to light cigars
The fish will shell your peas and even write
That they will help you make love in the night
You know you have a mental appetite
Avoid birds as they always see too far
When the rhyme comes.
When the mountains fall down into the great lakes
Leonard Cohen objects that life is fake
As he drinks his fortieth brandy in the bar
He wonders what the President will dare
Will he take the world down by a like?
When the rhyme comes.
