A gang of doves decending from the sky
give proof to the moon the sun was a lie
They cover the ground with their shadow
and leave a dark space for the wind to blow

A cold place for the daylight to sleep
A fat slow lizard for you to keep
A thick black carpet stained with blood
A ballroom for gypsies made out of mud

A second to rest before you must run
A hesitation when motions begun
before moving further down the sky way
revealing the sun was right there all day