A maze in grass I have sheared down,
Eight-feet-tall greenery.
If you get lost, you won't be found,
It winds serpentinely.

That tall grass ought to have been sheared
When it was small green leaves.
With my mower I then cut clear
For bringing in the sheaves.

I had to toil hard as a bear
Working a salmon run.
But now I'm able to walk there
When the grass-shaving's done.

I'll bale the hay that surrounds me
And get it well secured.
To farmers I will charge a fee
For what becomes manured.

I'll go and drink a dozen beers;
I've toiled in the hot sun.
'Twas tall as maize but now's been razed,
And yet, I'm still not done.

The maze hid grass. . .couldn't be found
By anyone but me.
I knew the path but smoked a pound
And lost my memory.