I starred at the moon
And scanty stars,
The breeze gently caressing
the leaves of tall trees,
Crickets squeaking in a nearby swamp.
A hungry man is a tired man
A hungry man is a drunk man
I imagined the crescent moon
Soaring down to earth,
The stars just as the Cupid.
I squinted my eyes to see better
But for the fog
I squinted even more
And off i went into a land
i know nothing of
A glorious abode
Where lions we rode
A glorious abode
Where nothing was sold
A glorious abode
With tents of gold
An abode of which i was told
An abode where i was not cold
An abode where i was bold
An abode where i did not grow old
An abode with someone to hold
An abode that could not fold
An abode where i carried no load
A hungry man is a tired man
A hungry man is a drunk man
This is what a hungry man wrote
This is what a hungry man saw
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