Look there up above the hill, over the mountain
With light from its holy lips, and blood from the stallion
We talk of ancient scripts, its soul from the master
Sent to do no harm, brought forth - from disaster
I raised my hand up high, and Boognish was looking onward
Said thy work shall now be done, could we then move forward
Gazing at its spongy eye, I gasped in all its glory
It's fun was made by putting forth
The end of the story
Look there up above the hill, over the mountain
With light from its holy lips, and blood from the stallion
Sent by ancient scripts, its soul from the master
Sent to do no harm, brought forth - from disaster
I raised my hand up high, and Boognish was looking onward
Said thy work shall now be done, could we then move forward
Gazing at its spongy eye, I gasped in all its glory
It's fun was made by putting forth
The end of the story