The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout.
We're scrambling, flitting upward. Spin webs as fast as you can, ensnare others, strangle them; suffocate them, clear the way to the top. We need to get up, we must go up!
Steal a fly's wings, it'll make us go faster, help us get up. We're almost there, almost at the top!
Down came the rain and washed the spider out
Falling.
It's an interesting sensation.
We have to grab hold!
You thought it was a fountain, but it was a flood, and now we're going down, after so long of trying to get up.
Our webs are breaking, next time spin them tighter.
We're falling.
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain.
We still have some traps in place. Reel them in.
We'll shake ourselves off, dry ourselves off. What do we have to use?
Take the rain, none of it should remain.
Luckily we have the sun at our disposal.
And the itsy, bitsy spider went up the spout again.
We know the way now. This time we'll get some butterfly wings.
Our traps will be more lethal.
You'll just have to make sure that it never rains again and we'll be at the top in no time.
A/N: I'm not sure if this is understandable to anyone else, or if it is just weird. It's my first really odd piece I've put up, so constructive criticism is a must. If you've read through to here you can't be too fed up with it, unless you want to flame me.
It's about John Spiro and his climb and fall from glory.