I’m stuck in a bag of invisible fabrics
Four to a row in uneven stacking
Massively bulging at the edges and pushing
From inside this bag of invisible fabrics
And if I should get to the top of the bag
Can you imagine what it’d be that I’d find?
Perhaps a wild land of unspeakable magic
Or a desert so sweeping I’d fall back inside.
The company’s not bad inside this bag
It’s rather amicable to be all conjoined
Amongst pears and apples, and mushrooms and goo
It appears the eggs haven’t prospered in here
I’m certain that someday soon I’ll find
I’ve been placed down on some solid ground
And as much as I enjoy this exciting ride
I’ll be off and gone, out of this bag