If in the course of living, in this strange and wondrous land,
You find yourself bored, or you find your life bland,
You need not travel far, and you need not fill your pack,
For the fail-proof key to absurdity lies in the Forest Black.

Where a princess sleeps in sweets, where a lioness sells meats.
Where Jackalope elites march to and fro.
Where talking, cockeyed cats, have a laugh and drop their hats.
Instead of chasing rats, that's where I go!

There's an army full of shrooms, with intoxicating fumes!
Every day they face a doom, from handy beavers.
Geese and chickens do not cluck, nor do any of the ducks...
And if they run out of luck, it's the cleaver.

So if you've got a frown, and if life seems upside-down...
There's a place of some renown if you're inclined.
It's just off the beaten path, where the cows do all the math!
...just avoid the hookah's wrath, and you'll be fine.

Penned by my hand on the 13th of Phaestian, in the year 535 AF.