The fox shot out of the entrance
And he sprang across the road
His wily wild head, lolling tonge hanging red
And a grin of his face saying overload
He grinned the laughing grin of a joker,
But crazy intelligence of a poker
Player from the barn, who takes chickens
By the yarn, tells of the wild dreams
Of a yoker
He cuts clean like a suit
Fires his brazen canons in salute
To the Sassy salty sea
Wearing orange sash of the bear
God-like as hesperides or Loki
A fallen angel star, picked up in a bar
Propped up by a whisky sour
The head of folded hair
The face of livid care
The wild wily fox crossed over
