A little while ago, a little ways away, sits a sleepy little town. Little happens in this little town, little chance it will. The little baker bakes his little bread, and the cobbler cobbles his little shoes. The little river turns a little wheel for the little miller’s mill.
In the middle of this little town you’ll see a little hill. On the little hill stands a little castle and a little flag flying overhead. Inside, on a little golden throne sits a little king with a little golden crown. His Little Majesty barks little orders to his little soldiers, who pick up their little swords and take their little stations on the little walls around the little town. They watch and they guard, but there’s little to see. Little happens in this little town, little chance it will.Continue reading “Poor Little Ol’ What’s-His-Name”