He could play the Londonderry Air Insightfully right from out his derriere As he made a trumpet of his rump Or maybe say a baritone saxophone Laid it down and made the people jump With a seeping sound to sweep the world around Seen now somehow in the sepia tone Of hindquarters finding their quarters Having hindsight but the foresight to share And though I suppose you had to be there As they say all day his rump would jump to pump Hindsight insightfully passed between friends Between his buttocks too and though it offends My hindsight now then how my mind was blown By the hindsight of a man who played his own Because otherwise he was all alone Quarters the end of hindquarters meant to send His Londonderry Air from out the other end +Steven Curtis Lance Copyright MMXIII