I curve my neck though I have no spout white as porcelain, or black as coal With careful grace I swim or dive Your geese is as good as mine

Kin placed safely away, The bird calls it a day. For she's done her best, Shaping her: .

Thou art the gentle shroud of day, in twilight's grasp dost thou lay. Apollo's chariot hath ceased to run, as Morpheus' realm is softly spun.

Beneath the velvet vault of night, dost dwell, where stars like diamond dust in darkness swell. Thee art the canvas for Luna's bright brush, and cradle dreams in silence's soft hush.

When you take the ends of enough, With a little bit from women, And from the centers of nation, You’ll get an amalgamation. When you mispronounce it quite rough, Some English inconsistence, then Can you make something like goatee Transform into something like me.