The Birds and Brains of America
Oh fie! my birds won’t fly they won’t even come out of their coop save for this dumb-dumb cuckoo—or is it a blackbird?—what do I know or does anybody under these occluded skies dis-augured with trans fatty canards reigning a song of sexpence four and twenty or three and ten I’ve lost track not singing just croaking meanvile kings and counselors in their counting houses let us eat crow potpie.
