i mustn’t send letters out
on their own to fend for themselves
balloons often carry omens
i’ll be well behaved:
i mustn’t think hot thoughts
without the cold shoulder to douse them
balloons are meant to be sling-shot
o slippery strings! o verdant, brassy horns!
your chorus calls me out, cuts down my sigh,
your chorus ceases my incessant whingeing why.