The little white feather, wound its way in the bleakest weather
Swinging this way and that, wind whipping like a cave bat
It lands on the lady's shoulder, a beautiful face and eyes that smolder
She glanced at the feather awhile, before swatting it with a smile
The girl is young and fair, no worries at hand no reason to care
She dances without constrains, a sinner among the saints
She glides this way and that, in high heels and a colorful hat
But then she sees the toad, egging her flair to implode
But the toad's no fool, there's to be no kiss like the stories drool
Its had many a rough encounters, judging by the way it flounders
It fidgets this way and that, like a mouse escaping a cat
It hops aboard the boat, the sails keeping it afloat
The boat’s a little rickety, its masts a little fidgety
Its seen years go by, each one harder to defy
It sailed this way and that, past the seas never flat
Now the captain stands atop its deck, bellowing orders to avoid a wreck
The captain’s old, by the way his skin fold
His neck strained with command, the sailors heeding his every demand
He looks this way and that, marching past the shrouds where the albatross sat
the sailors are weary he thought, the giant bird a feast for his lot
The bird looked at the ancient mariner, and perched itself on a high container
Hanging around the neck was a legend of old, it would fly in the air damp and cold
It flew this way and that, taking no account of the arrow being shot at
The shaft pierced straight through the bird's chest,
Leaving a single feather to detach from its crest.
