Little Locket

He's got a little locket picture

Of the maids' commission

With bees blowing through the bushes

He makes the first incision

And these dolls race through the garden

A chef on boneless roses

Opens the bandages

This sleeping house discloses

What the guest's dreams are hiding

As he rests above the arbor

With little flowers crying

For all their heads he's harbored

And the then midnight market stalls

Fill with up chloroform

The face within his locket calls

"Take off your uniform."

They kiss him before parting

Then melt into his pockets

He's trampling through the garden

And he's got a little locket