Beach
Sand
I turn up
the cold for that’s my Huckleberry
Ten cups
of java gold and I’m set merry
I escape
from an outside world which smells of bad sherry
Iced
vanilla cake is the blonde and the topless cherry
Auld Lang
Syne’s on the horizon
After
Christmas which always seemed to conclude with “you’ll put your eye out!”
Remember
the BB guns before the Looney Left started to scream and shout?
Well,
I’ve one half-broken eye and it wasn’t because of a shot pellet
I miss
festive New York City,
the place that finally forged me
The song
played for the Yankees is indeed true, it’s up to you
Once you
come, don’t ever leave unless you’ve done, never you’re done
That City
instills what Liberty
of mind is, makes the rest of the world look small and less fun
I’m the wandering
Jew, but finally decided to be more like a church pew
So here I
am, in the Land
of Milk and Honey and the
bane of my life, religion
I’m the
ex-pat that nobody can figure
But then
even mama found me strange, so I’m still the convention breaking critter
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