Sonny, listen to a tale,
Which wasn’t ever in print —
It’s about a big bale
Brought on by guests unbidden,

It’s about an escape
And a trap’s deadly grip...
Sonny, listen to a tale,
And don’t thou fall asleep.

And there’s also some stuff
I have no wish to rake,
But it troubles me sometimes,
Falls on and suffocates.

Yet at night, there’s no reason
To re-open those old deeds...
It’ll be better for thee
To see thy happy dreams.

It’s, dear sonny, thy old man —
He knows what is what.
He saw various contexts,
And knew lots of folks.