Do not ask why the stone has fallen to the ground
But rather why it is that on it is nowhere to be found
Nor ask why this journey of thousands or even millions of miles
Over mountains so high they say they can touch the moon and she smiles
Sailing, they say, rivers of lava and seas with waves of rock and foam of steel
One huge tale weaved by so many tales told by liars of thieves who forget to steal
But do ask why such a short journey needed deceit of its distance in tireless try
And why do they think we will ever believe that pigs and elephants crisscross the sky
The ground did not move that night and all know the stone on it fell
Together they gathered and swore that it was a breeze that whooshed it far and long
Cowards who today sing the tale of the missing stone will one day be ashamed to tell
That the bedtime story they have told their children for a decade they knew it so wrong
As we all know they know where the stone fell and why it hasn’t been found as well