Russian Lullaby 

Irving Berlin adapted by Thimblewit

      Late at night you can hear her crooning a Russian lullaby.

Just the faintest little tune when baby starts to cry. Rock-a-by my Baby.

Someday somewhere there may be. A land that’s free for you and me in a Russian lullaby.

 

Instead of becoming inspired, Amusia became insecure, had the ambition but lacked the technique she

was sure. ‘Twas getting late, so she set off for her van, parked on old St. Ferdinand down in the Bywater.

Now dodging the Live Oak Tree root’s trying to lift the street to the moon,

she was run off the road by a crazy swerving drunken buffoon. Though she was

unharmed she’d have to carry her bike, but it ended up making her night when she found

an eviction trash pile.