Betwixt the imagination

T'was brilliant the night that lay

But it ghastly swiveled and swayed;

All was trite and rightfully gay

Slept the Bandredo on a bed of hay.

"Make it quick, make it fast

Make it brown or we'll drown"

The boy that once played

Was now forcefully enslaved.

"She's hungry!" He'd say

He would run and hide   

whilst the Bandredo cried,

"Fra-dilidee-do I'll gut ya in two"

But the boy had a friend,

La creme de la creme.

She uttered for freedom, she shouted with might.

"Be androit and forget what's contrite"

And the Bandredo, with eyes full of scorn,

Went into a negligent plight.

To defend her lowborn,

So fought she like a valiant bee.

The boy sat alone in the sandbox that night,

He nearly caught himself frostbite.

"Whoa is me, for you seem to be

Alone in this world tonight"