You sang song and on white-wing.
You sang the way to the Registrar.
His glasses slid on the greasy nose .
The sky was romantic bride-white.
You woke up to the new white day
And clouds would go fluffy white.
And then a gray humdrum started
The sparrows would flit in gutters.
Behind clothesline lay humdrum.
Now it’s humdrum of black gowns
It is a humdrum of the stale song.
It is a humdrum of sliding glasses.