If wishes were roses,
I would stand by each of them
And say "cheese" with poses.
If wishes were horses,
Beggars would have choices,
And I would stand by each one of them and say, " hey, pack your treasures in my boxes"
And if wishes were spices for this vapid life
That I could reckon my slices of joy in this acrid strife
Without vices of fate shadowing me like an avid wife.
And I could twice a day eat a meal unflinching of a baited knife.
Then I would pick those roses,
Ride off on one of those horses.
Yelling to everyone dreaming, that I have a wishful spice.
U