i am that Kim Sung Ling
and when i have none to sing
i’ll either walk along the long bridge
or climb and sit on my old fridge
that i may breathe some fresh air
or relax, dreaming my climbing a stair
picking up a strong clip
to tighten securely my lip
that i may speak nothing unfair
or drop, bricks of folly so rare
to the hearty delight
of those gathered in the twilight
to hear Kim Sung Ling
prompting them also to sing
