On a cold December, just before dawn
As the sun said hello to the sky
The mantis prayed while the lamellicorn
Tumbled and rolled in a threadbare tie
The Holland lops in the Callicoon glades
Indignantly thumped their feet
And hopped away when they cut their noses
On the sharp tipped blades
Since the grass doesn't mind in the least
The heat pad waiting in the chicken wire hutch
Where the does from the Netherlands stay
But that dry alfalfa don't taste like much
And we're tired of the Timothy Hay
I touched her back, she was lying face down
The dew turned to frost in her eyes
Me and Sister Margaret on the pentagon lawn
With our wrists in a plastic tie
While the rats by the tracks on these winter days
Seeking shelter from the cold
Make a nest in the traps of our various ways
That they can save their immortal souls
Oh no Timothy Hay, oh no Timothy Hay
Oh no Timothy Hay, oh no Timothy Hay
Oh no Timothy Hay, oh no Timothy Hay
Please no more Timothy Hay, no more Timothy Hay
Oh no, no more Timothy Hay, no, no more Timothy Hay
Oh no, no more Timothy Hay, no more Timothy Hay
On a cold December just after dusk
As the sun bid its cordial goodbyes
We get split to pieces like an apple seed husk
To reveal the tree that's been hidden inside
We're a sapling caught in a tattered Sirah
At the seams from the shepherd's purse belt
Broke the news to mom
We found a better mom we call God which she took quite well
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God
What a beautiful God there must be
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God
What a beautiful God there must be
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God
What a beautiful God there must be
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God
What a beautiful God You must be