I’m a dancer with no feet, a giant spinning in the sky. I twist and turn across the earth, then vanish as I fly.

Can take you to another time Can bring back the dead Can do that, yes, it's not a crime Can do that all, right in your head

I sit on one eye, a lonely glass lens, A fancy old piece from your grandmother's trends. I don't help you read in the dark of the night, Unless you pop me in and adjust your sight.

The boy who cries wolf sets his pants on fire. Although he is still a liar, he is no longer bothered by the insects in his attire. Or so he does say, but framing the innocent will never pay. Pantsless, he stands, getting eaten by the wolf himself, and the here wanted insects will just resume filling their shelves.

What do bowling lanes and roofs have in common? You might also tell someone to get their mind out of here if they make a bawdy comment.