BRAIDED HAIR

(to the tune, roughly, of "Tom Dula")

Hang down your hair out the window
Hang out your tears to dry
He’s banging on your brass, dear
He’s got a long-bow on his knee

The time it being late, dear
The rain it being cold
Don’t let him wait too long dear
Let him into your fold

You’ve cut off all access
with your Scandinavian knife
So no he must try harder
If he’ll take you as his wife

He met her under moonbeams
He held the string to her kite
And then she closed her eyes
before he could say good-night

The stair-case it goes downstairs
and goes right up again
The doorway it leads out
but doesn’t come in the same

Two travellers come on stubborn mules
a cat is ringing a bell
but the mice don’t seem so worried
as far as she can tell

She sees the promenade
and looks down to the pond
He sits there feeding pigeons
and the grey goose sings a song

She walks away from the window
and open the lock on her book
and holds the final chapter
with a curious furrowed look

He paces by the river
and catches a rusty bus
and goes back to the desert
for he knows he’s had enough

Hang down your hair out the window
Hang out your tears to dry
He’s banging on your brass, dear
He’s got a long-bow on his knee

(the end)
Commentary: Sure, there is some sort of plot
and references are oblique to real things,
but obviously it is mere nonsense and
simply goes with the music.