The yellow bumble bees over my head are marching to a tune I can’t understand. The blue birds wont help me today. “Merry arn’t we, scary arn’t we run for your life, hairy arn’t we, still scary arn’t we we’ll stings like a knife” sing the bumblebees. I’ll run from this they won’t keep up. As im running Jan and Stan trapeze over my head. Ben and his Hen are milking the chocolate cow. Where has my mind taken me. This isn’t my home. I need to get home.