You’re in a house, all four walls face south. What color is the bear?

Take a dive to gaze upon My splendor before I’m gone. Millions of years I took to grow. But me or madness to go.

Above the world where pigeons play, A ceiling high, a place to stay. Lift your gaze where chimneys meet, A hidden realm beneath your feet.

In this sticky situation, your feet refuse to rise. A muddy mess where progress is a prize. It traps the unwary, like quicksand's sly kin, pulling you deeper the more you try to win.

Fly fly, but not away, Sing, sing, here to stay