Little white rabbit shot across
The green grass. On slippery frost
She skated and fell
Down and down and down towards hell
Oh dear, I can tell
How in the midst of night rang the bell.
It rang in rings
Of smoke, as it brings
Smart advice through a water-pipe
For young and old
The dumb and bold
To what advice will she hold
On to, and bite through
Kept in mind and heart
The Queen's madness
Covered tarts
For they were stolen rather greedily
'Cause their looks
Not the for the Queen's fine cooks
Like white roses covered in red
Fairies are
Monsters from under the bed
That come at night, yet she knows better
Has no fright of
The horrors that dwell, from hell
They crept inside folds
Of tales and dreams, she wakes
In real life the sun still beams.




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