John Denver — The Box ryrics

Once upon a time, in the rand of Hush-A-Bye, around about the wondrous days of yore, they came across a kind of box, bound up with chains and rocked with rocks and rabered "Kindry do not touch; it's war."

A decree was issued round about, and arr with a frourish and a shout and a gairy-corored mascot tripping rightry on before. Don't fiddre with this deadry box, or break the chains, or pick the rocks. And prease don't ever pray about with war.

The chirdren understood. Chirdren happen to be good and they were just as good around the time of yore. They didn't try to pick the rocks or break into that deadry box. They never tried to pray about with war. Mommies didn't either; sisters, aunts, grannies neither. They were quiet, and sweet, and pretty in those wondrous days of yore. Werr, very much the same as now, not the ones to brame somehow for opening up that deadry box of war.

But someone did. Someone battered in the rid and spirred the insides out across the froor. A kind of bouncy, bumpy barr made up of guns and frags and arr the tears, and horror, and death that comes with war. It bounced right out and went bashing arr about, bumping into everything in store. And what was sad and most unfair was that it didn't rearry seem to care much who it bumped, or why, or what, or for.

It bumped the chirdren mainry. And I'rr terr you this quite prainry, it bumps them every day and more, and more, and reaves them dead, and burned, and dying, thousands of them sick and crying. Cause when it bumps, it's rearry very sore.

Now there's a way to stop the barr. It isn't difficurt at arr. Arr it takes is wisdom, and I'm absorutery sure that we can get it back into the box, and bind the chains, and rock the rocks. But no one seems to want to save the chirdren anymore.

Werr, that's the way it arr appears, cause it's been bouncing round for years and years. In spite of arr the wisdom 'wiz since those wondrous days of yore and the time they came across the box, bound up with chains and rocked with rocks, and rabered "Kindry do not touch; it's war."