Decadent ritual of un-fretted glory
Somersaults and candles and baskets with lunches
Bubble baths and grass and glasses of wine
Seize the day, give not to thine fear
Wallowing in glory with squirrels and a lover
Smelling the air of lightly scented allure
Pretending to care the feathers aren’t ruffled
Knowing better than the vultures circling
The game is your own
The bat is a slugger
The ball isn’t greased
And the pitcher’s on change-up
Lay low, dear lover
Lay high, dear moon
Stay long dear lover
Stay bright, dear moon