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Half-Handed Cloud
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Sailing The Veil-Boat
Belly, what a waste
And eating all in haste,
Not knowing that it's laced：
Poison that I can't taste.
We hoped the tasty frees,
'Please guide us where we please',
Not seeing that he sees,
We're really pulled on skis.
Then savior front door,
Knock-knock open wide,
Despite being poor,
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We're rich as his bride.
Danger to us,
No more dangerous,
He fashioned a sail made out of the veil.
So now I'm his bride,
But then so is my wife,
And daily to abide,
He keeps us on the ride
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