We made muckle grassy nests on the green,
Hoping Blackbirds would find us,
But they were never really keen,
Who knows what they’ve seen,
Through our yellow crocheted nets,
Blocking out the spies,
Netted lies.
Saturated dream catchers above our beds,
And coal buckets full of meds,
The only way to get rid of our crawlers
Is to shave them out our heads.