They gathered 'round the campfire,
this crew, motley as they come:
the wench, the drunk, and the hippie,
the musician, the fool, and the bum.
They sang their songs to the stars above
they howled them at the moon
they wailed on saxophone and strummed guitar;
through the night, they played their tunes.
The wood it crackled in the fire
the flames were rising high
then burnt down to glowing coals
as sun lit the morning sky.
"It's time that we retire," said they,
"For we have reveled long.
The night has fled and day has come
while we sang our merry songs."
Back inside they ran to hide
from the glaring light of the sun
as embers slowly turned to ash
ending their night of fun.
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