Hark! Look at the pigs!

Look at them fly so highly.

Clicking and turning,

The days of that life rolled on

like London in smog.

(the days seem to fly by

without any pie)

"Lady!" they sung, and weeped, and cried,

"Lady" they yelled as she flew to the sky.

(and millions and billions of artificial little

rainbows in pink and yellow and blue)

That pretty ballet girl with a pink skirt,

And a silver tiara and a newspaper shirt,

(that she would find pleasure in that too.)

Those flying pigs soared through the clouds

at 100 miles an hour.

So fast that the chicken, quite scared,

went sweet and sour and sung:

"Hark, look at the pigs!

Look at them fly so highly. "

And away she flew on her green banana boat

with butterfly wings

And went to find joy and peace with Queens

and their Kings.