You'd better get your laugh while you're making your point, or you won't be doing it very long.

It was missing a piece. And it was not happy. So it set off in search of its missing piece. And as it rolled it sang this song - "Oh I'm lookin' for my missin' piece I'm lookin' for my missin' piece Hi-dee-ho, here I go, Lookin' for my missin' piece.

My beard grows down to my toes, I never wears no clothes, I wraps my hair Around my bare, And down the road I goes.

My skin is kind of sort of brownish pinkish yellowish white. My eyes are greyish blueish green, but I'm told they look orange in the night. My hair is reddish blondish brown, but its silver when its wet, and all the colors I am inside have not been invented yet.

Underneath my outside face There's a face that none can see. A little less smiley, A little less sure, But a whole lot more like me.

The bridge will only take you halfway there, to those mysterious lands you long to see. Through gypsy camps and swirling Arab fair, and moonlit woods where unicorns run free. So come and walk awhile with me and share the twisting trails and wondrous worlds I've known. But this bridge will only take you halfway there. The last few steps you have to take alone.

Although I cannot see your face As you flip these poems awhile, Somewhere from some far-off place I hear you laughing--and I smile.