A Strawberry Moon
in June
doesn't make me sing a different tune
I'm a tiny bit offended by "crazy as a loon"
I haven't been made mad by the power of the moon
I'm not digging through the garbage like a hoodlum raccoon
or staring at you like an ass scratching baboon
The one I love, my heart, that goon
He sings to me sweetly, my handsome common loon
On the evening before the Strawberry Moon
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