Jumping here and sliding there
I fell upon a thorn
With hands tied behind my back
There was naught to do but scorn
The cry of pain was heard afar
By one who knew his way
A heart of gold and then had he
The man who helped that day
Working at his level best
He struggled to get me free
Complaining not a single word
For suffering also was he
Now's my chance to ease his load
Though not so pure my heart
Just the same he'll shake my hand
And thank me as we start
Written by AJP3 c. 1969-1972
