Morgan Michaels

Now we will be happy, happy, happy,
and, lordy, lordy,
happy and happier still,
happy running down the happy hill

like two happy rills and more
hoarding the strands of their song
into a happy orotorio
falling down, down, down, headlong

running to calm cadenzas of pooled skill
run, run, run, run, run
if happiness, mind you, were the moon
I'd grab both its horns and hang on.

Now we shall be happy, happy, happy
and happy, happy, we'll
be happy and happier still
happy running over the happy hill.