Jay could yell, bellow shrill
In songs when he should have been singing.
His most famous screamed tune of all:
". . .a Spell on You."

Voice veered from low to high,
As if someone his neck were wringing.
His screamed song has me in its thrall:
". . .a Spell on You."

"But is it music? This thunderful noise is
Quite hellish. Retreat, vacate, let go; this song, eschew!"

Say my buds, who fall down--
My Jay reverence has them drinking.
They beg, "Stop," as to me they crawl,
"More '. . .Spell on You's.

Man, is your muse sick, or suff'rin' neurosis,"
They query. "He bleats plaintive death-throes of fawns and ewes.

Why dya love this squalled sound?
When we hear it, ears are stinging,"
Ask former friends, demanding I stall
More ". . .Spell on You"s.

More ". . .Spell on You"s.