One of tails there, a rolling ball, where it goes. Or, one of axes there, a rolling ball, where it goes.
It's snowing, only one, sing a song.
Still far away spring, in the mirror, flower's laughing. Or, still far away spring, in the mirror, just mocking.
The rascals are, of the house next door, knocking on the door.
The book to peruse, not to see the prince of darkness, to ask his true name.