The sun is in the sky.
The grass is in the ground.
The mountain tops are high
And the world, they say, is round.

A dog walks round in circles
Till he finds a place to sleep.
Traffic, stress and work ills
Are all buried ten feet deep.

Amanda's hair is blond
And the dress she wears is white.
She says she's very fond
Of puppies, fish and night.

There's a twinkle in her eye
And a sparkle in her smile.
To shout or swear or lie
Simply wouldn't suit her style.

Amanda's on a hill
When she sees her friend Diane.
They both have time to kill.
Amanda forms a plan

To go to where Diane is
To see if she has news,
And ask her how her gran is,
And show off her new shoes.

Diane's news is this:
She's found true love again.
She's taken love's sweet bliss
Out of her recycle bin.

The man she loves is Freddie.
Right now he'd be in bed.
He often seems unsteady
On his feet and in his head.

But when he's fully sober
He can dance like Fred Astaire.
He promised he would show her
How to waltz with style and flair.

When he's at his local
He has little use for legs.
Some friendly legless folk'll
Empty two or three beer kegs.

His company is welcome,
And he'll always buy his round.
He's funny and he's seldom
Short of tales that will astound.

Her parents think she's crazy
To consider life with Fred.
They say he's rude and lazy
And he smells of something dead.

They'd rather see her choosing
A fine young man called Stan.
You'll never catch him boozing
And he dearly loves Diane.

He says she's like a flower
And he's sure that heaven sent it.
He's proud of his brain power
And the horse bra he invented.

She has to make a choice
But she can't make up her mind.
She could take her heart's advice
And accept that love is blind.

Or else she could take heed
Of her head's repeated pleas.
It says there is a need
To ignore her weakened knees.

Amanda says the future
Can be seen in clouds above.
These visions may not suit your
Deepest-held beliefs in love.

The clouds are better guides
Than the tea leaves or the stars.
You can make out grooms and brides
Or thieves behind steel bars.

They look up at the sky
Where the clouds are roaming free.
A white cloud passes by
And its shape is plain to see.

It's a horse who's wearing blinkers
And a bra, though lacking breasts.
Diane won't need great thinkers
To explain what this suggests.

But Amanda disagrees.
She thinks they should keep looking.
They face a gentle breeze,
Watching clouds that fate is cooking.

In one great cloud they see
A semi-conscious man.
Their faces light with glee.
"It's Freddie!" says Diane.