Downside Town

So there's this place called
Downside Town,
Where all the trees grow
Upside down,
With their roots in the air
And shoots in the ground!

Though I'm afraid
There's not much shade
In which to take a stroll,
You shouldn't do that anyway
On account of the flying moles.
Vexing little critters, they are,
Like little bats but more bizarre,
Just as blind but twice as silly,
Bumping into everybilly.

Well, if you find yourself in
Downside Town,
Heed these cryptic words:
Don't be one to hang around
Or you'll end up living
With the birds.


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