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 crocheted nets;
Blocking out the spies,
Protecting netted lies.
Saturated dream catchers above our beds,
Coal buckets full of meds,
The only way to get rid of our crawlers,
Is to shave them out our heads.