Oh I’m going to ride on the flying festoon—
I’ll jump on his back and I’ll whistle a tune,
And will fly to the outermost tip of the moon,
The flying festoon and I.
I’m taking a sandwich, a ball and a prone,
And we are leaving this evening precisely at noon,
For I’m going to fly with the flying festoon…
Just as soon as he learns how to fly.
by Shel Silverstein
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