Chicken Little Says...
Chicken Little, says," the sky is falling." The gizmo keeps on knocking, a cacophony of horror. So say the warlocks of the macabre. Disguised with cosmetics. Riding a crooked horse of the apocalypse. Darkening the sky of oblivion, as crickets strum their violins. Fasting before the corpse of death's theme. Cloaking, then feeding the Tin Man a buffet at the diners, drive-ins, and dives. While the sweet chariot carries the bones gathering at the tannery. Scraping away the flesh, to make lampshades for the Cyclops flea market. Chicken Little, says," the sky is falling."
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