A lipogram is a form of wordplay involving a particularly strict constraint. A hint: if my font was missing a particular glyph, you simply wouldn't know.

Why do I know many songs about rainbows,
and what's at that faraway spot?
A rainbow's a vision, just an illusion.
Firm and substantial it's not.

That's common wisdom which common folks follow.
I think it's wrong, through and through.
I know I'll find it, a rainbow conjunction.
Join us and you'll find it too.

Who said that any wish would find its fruition
if sung to a star shining bright?
Fools find conviction in this bit of fiction.
I think it's simply not right.

What's so amazing in nights of stargazing?
Why would stars watch out for you?
I know I'll find it, a rainbow conjunction.
Join us and you'll find it too.

All of us caught in its grasp,
know that it's probably magic...

At night, as I'm drifting, my pillow starts singing.
It says that I cannot stay.
Is it this singing that calls a young sailor,
and draws him to lands far away?

A song grown so strong I can't hold out against it.
Now I know what I must do.
I'll try to find it, this rainbow conjunction.
Join us and you'll find it too.

Laa, da daa laa da daa daa,
La laa la la laa daa daa doo.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Good morning, I wish to put forth a complaint. Good morning? Miss?

Why did you say "Miss"?

I'm sorry, I'm a bit ill. I wish to put forth a complaint.

I'm going out for lunch now.

No you don't, my lad. I wish to complain about this parrot which I bought not half an hour ago from this shop.

Oh right. A "Finnish Indigo". What's wrong with it?

I'll show you what's wrong it, my lad. It's not living, that's what's wrong with it!

No, no, it's napping.

Look, buddy, I know how a non-living parrot looks, and I'm looking at it right now.

No, no, it's living. It's just napping. Singular bird, that Finnish Indigo. Charming down.

Down has nothing to do with it! It's not living.

No, no, it's napping.

All right, if it's napping, I'll try waking it! Mr. Polly Parrot! A scrumptious fish for you if you show...

Look, it's moving!

It is not! That was you hitting this box!

I did not!

You did!

I most indubitably did nothing at all!

Good morning, Polly! Ding-dong! Ding-dong! This is your six o'clock alarm call! [Throws parrot up. It falls down. Thump.] Now that's what I call a non-living parrot.

No, no... No, it has a concussion.

A concussion??

Yup! You struck it unconscious, just as it was coming to. Finnish Indigos always wind up with concussions.

Now look, buddy, this is too much. That parrot is obviously non-living. I bought it not half an hour ago, and you said that its total lack of motion was owing to it tiring out following a long, drawn-out squawk.

It's, ah, probably pining for fjords.

Pining for fjords?? What kind of talk is that? Look, why did it fall flat on its back as soon as I brought it into my flat?

A Finnish Indigo favors lying on its back! Singular bird, that Finnish Indigo. Charming down.

Look, I took a shot at scrutinizing that parrot as soon as I got back, and I found that it was only sitting on its roost at all on account of it having nails through it!

Obviously it had nails through it! If I didn't put nails through it, that bird would fly up to this box, smash it apart, and VOOM!

VOOM? Buddy, this bird wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts through it. It's bloody non-living!

No no, it's pining!

It's not pining! It's past! This parrot is not with us! It has said its last words! It has flown to find its parrot god! It's a stiff! Lacking a spirit, its body turns to dust! If you hadn't put nails through it, it would push up a daisy or two! Its vital organs do not function! It's off its twig! It's bought a farm! It has thrust off its mortal coil, run down its curtain, and is singing with a bloody choir immortal! THIS IS AN X-PARROT!

[Lull.] ... Okay, if that's so, I ought to swap it. [Ducks and stands up again.] Sorry sir, I had a look around our back room, and I'm right out of parrots.

Okay. Okay, I know what's going on.

I got a slug.

Pray, will it talk?

Not as such, no...

So it's hardly a bloody fair swap, is it?

No, no, I doubt it.


Do you... do you want to go back to my flat?

Okay, all right.