Wooden Floor

The wooden floor is made of wood
And the wood is very good
Oak, we think
The wooden floor is full of grace
And beneath the floor there is a space
Where dirt and bits of stuff reside
And recently, at their side
A human head
The human head belonged to Pete
Who scuffed the floor
With his giant feet

He will not be doing that again
Unless his corpse grows a new head
And comes back to life

I got a splinter in my eye
I feel that I will surely die
Or go blind
My eye is of great use to me
For winking, and of course to see the stars
That light the sky at night, and speeding cars and birds in flight
And my enemies

My enemies are many and strong
They come to my house and do me wrong
They damage my floor and expect me not to kill them
They are fools. And deserve to die

The wooden floor is made of wood
And the wood is very good
It's very good