Keen On Being Good, ljóð frá 7. júlí 2019.

Kind if ladies come,

keen of being good.

Modern times are mostly dark,

must they tarnish some?

What I miss is more,

maidens go to war...

Over them the murky mood,

milestones of the former lark.

Hear that distand drum...

dwelling here while nearer coming every barque...

 

Marching mainly on,

must be someone lost...

Need some love, this house and hill,

Heaven will be gone...

Shallow girls, then gore,

getting nowhere score...

Never liked to being bossed,

broken, crying, never will...

Thought I had that hon,

how this place could give them endless, loving fill!

 

Speak then wishful, warm,

welfare, if you can...

Stealth in harsh case, storms of life,

stray not from the norm.

Love the man who's me

more to do it free.

Not so fine in needs of wren,

nearled drowned in words of strife.

Coming from the corm,

keep on playing, until they will hear the fife.