"Thus the Barrister Dreamed . . ."

The strange world betwixt sleep and waking is one usually populated (in my case) by thoughts, at once intense and inexpressible, of my nearest and dearest.

This morning, however, my brain composed a lyric—something it's never done before in that weird state. I freely admit that the scansion and rhyme are faulty—but what do you expect from a drowsing lyricist? The tune is Porter's I've Got You Under My Skin.

I’ve got your underwear on.
I’ve got your panties inside of me.
And now (good God!) they’re starting to ride on me.
I’ve got your underwear on.

Lyric © 2005 Nathaniel DesH. Petrikov

At the mo, I doubt that I'll take this any further. Save it as a curiosity and move on to something else.