Show it L Uncle Walt Wall Poet Philosopher THE V VANISHED PLIES FLIES J j The flIes arc are dead We us used d t to i upon the tho long hot summer Bummer day t j we v would sally gaily do cia our toll toil toll If If were ere boiled In oil You all alt how we roared and fanned tanned th the lu inee with a a. hoard board and set let our trap trapi laid out shoots heets of sticky dope to a du W their feets leets and ond pawed patted and howled wished the tho Ilea flies wore In their tn en tn dad bine hing their eyes eye And now the t are dead and Rone Kone and as th the wI days roll on does an any pilgrim step say aay how bow Sweet life Is 18 since they're a Flies Files out of or sight are out of mind i KO go o about the dally daily grind and nev never neve-j r tu how fine CIne It Is that they no morus mon mor aT ar us whIz whir The Tho pilgrim lm haa has cares and over th them m he sweats wc swears and says gays If only they'd be u w true truo happiness would have a dawn they thoy like th the tho flies file hod hed hedi 4 some somo briny from his ce eyes and aid dig oth other r kinds of ot woes and rant and Q and chew his to toot toes s. s So when you tra your our will fill cm your our life an j your pleasures kill 0 O try to shake j discontent you'd discontent you'd never miss them hem If If lf went toJ t |