Dancing In A [good ole country] In a [yeee haw]

/*yeeeee haaaaaaw this is a good ole cuntry cuntry town yippee kay ay ayayayayayayaayayayayayayayayayyaayayayayayayayayaaaaaaaaayyyyyy.exe_errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- like a wheel gets cold and colder while we were rolling wet regrets past fields of paddies flooded lightly pat feet through doorways' time regressed like a door gets old and older where reaches for each fallen fleur de Lune turns life to silk and tiny Prints depress the flour floor like a ghost is leaves that gather into the pond until the light is nothing but the dead and gone my fleur de lune is filled with night A man keeps passing down the lane packing hay into his eyes By fuller fields with cheeks of rain My fair-skinned pond that filled with night -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- */ thanks Alex Ayers, for doing good stuff Most of this song is just a cut and paste of a poem I wrote into an Ayers work, with my own prompt pasted onto the end