Written by Silver
Comfortable in my teacup house – that’s me;
sleeping and breathing,
breathing and sleeping.
Comfortable in my teacup house – that’s me:
On my left sits the fidgeting March Hare;
clawing and gnawing
gnawing and clawing.
On my left sits the fidgeting March Hare,
terribly adoring the tea-party air.
On my right sits the pestering Hatter;
speaking in riddles
and riddled with madness.
On my right sits the pestering Hatter,
frenzied happily by Unbirthday patter.
In front of me stands the beautiful Alice;
looking on in awe,
awe looking on her.
In front of me stands the beautiful Alice,
stunned by thoughts of the Red Queen’s palace.
And inside, comfortable in my teacup house,
I dream lazily of treacle,
with treacle sticking to my head.
And ‘you might as well just say,
that I breathe when I sleep
is the same as I sleep when I breathe.’
I am the Dormouse named Bernard;
when I sleep time stops,
and when time stops I sleep.
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