We tend the garden across multiple states
And the rows follow us down the I
As we outrun a harvest we’ll never bear
The rabbits don’t know what’s in store
As they teem the pen and test the mesh
Like Millwall hooligans
And as husbands we both pet and riot
But we only vandalize the map
And only soothe diners as they cuddle us
They tell us that there’s a great place
Two exits up, but to get there
You’ll have to throw on your chains
jtskipjack 
Leave a comment