Swing

More often than not, I wake up at night (by my kids or something else) and can't get back to sleep for something like 3 hours or so. Mostly I come up with solutions about pieces that I'm writing or things I don't know yet how to build. But sometimes I make nursery rhymes. Mostly I forget them straight away, but this time I could still cite it when my oldest boy came waking me up: 

There was a boy called Ling

he had a ring

and dreams about a king

who flies on a wing

to a country called Ming

where all the people sing

just about the spring:

Spring, spring, spring

I'm sitting on a swing

and having a fling

with a girl called Jing

Spring, spring, spring

she's a lovely thing

then broke the string

and gone was Jing

It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing