A SONG SUNG WITH A HORN

I sing a song
A song with a horn
Blended with yellow corn
With honey and for a home 

To feed cutty little kitty my unicorn
This song I sing
Is as old a song
Sung of old ; as I sing

This song I sing, is the dieing will
Of the ancestral spirits
T'is the awakening crow
Of the cock at dawn

I sing a song
A song with a horn
Sung from old
To part not it's hold

Of grip on little kitty unicorn
This song I sing :
Is my counter rising
Is my formative lapping

Is my relative lighting
For our time lapsing
Where the tide will turn :

The risen to the falling
The fallen to the rising
Where I will sing home
With high hopes

Proud of my fully fledged unicorn
Like the fisher folks coming home
From their sail
Proud of their sails