Swings and roundabouts 
In the playground of Marcy Bay
Candy canes
They're sweet say what you may 
The boughs are heavy hung, 
With trees to climb and bark to cling 
Rough
But there's a view. 
What can I see through the leaves of the yew, 
Gentle in the dark
I'm coming round to knowing 
That there's a presence in the park
Perhaps I do feel guilty 
As I swing around and round
Yet playing keeps me swaying 
And my heart rate from the ground