The waitress sighed
I don’t want lipstick
Now the hungry lion roars
I am that merry wanderer of the night
The beer was dark and sweet
You must be alive
I never thought of that
Blood hath been shed ere now
In my way I also am an artist
She walked out of the inn
I thought it was good news
Everybody knows that
There are no cats on the moon
I was a brave fireman
I needed my skateboard
Yet execute thy wrath in me alone
And hate the idle pleasures of these dayes
He wasn’t me
I was getting butterflies by this time
I couldn’t think of what to say
An old dog lay on the rug
Ever since his father left
I was hungry for something
My Ego. He just walked in
We’re taking it slow
When shall we three meet again?
And I do. I do smile
By noon, he was gone
I am ‘Hula Pig’
And he stood in the blast
There was a stripe of sun on the carpet
His name was Seymour
The bird woman clenched her teeth
It hurt a lot
I doubt there’re any monkeys here
This was not my idea
Save the pancakes for later
To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle
Bad Duck
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I dance attendance here
A new point we have in common
1971 was the Year of Spaghetti
Art thou a silk-worm?
Call me Ishmael
They forgot to feed the dog
Suddenly, it all happened again
Cats often disappear like that
It looked like the bottom of the sea
Walking is a whole lot better
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