The Hospital Where Babies Are Born

Yo, yo, yo, yo. Down the hall

where the clocks run late. Past room 13 and the swinging gate.

There's a hospital stitched out of size and steam. Where the laws of nature loosen

their seams. The nurses tap dance, the charts all sing.

Next says the bell with a broken ding. Feathers, fur and foreheads

warm. Clocking in where the babies are born. Oh,

step right up, be reborn, be warned. This is the hospital where the

babies are born. Joeys and pups and calves and kits. All learning how