Timothy wakes at morning light
To prepare his master's toast
And prepare the daily wash
And the day's post

He sees the parcel slide beneath the door
Which casually he secures
He reads the note within his head
Such tasks he must endure

At eight past noon he has a task
To make a weird exchange
A man's arm for a secret note
This is getting strange

He tells his master he's feeling ill
And perhaps may have a viral
For if he told the master true
It would throw him for a spiral

He bids farewell and takes his leave
He travels to the spot
And watches as a man taps his foot
He can see him getting hot

At eight past noon, Tim dives from on high
And takes the arm as pay
And watches as the man screams
As a new arm makes way

He apologizes quickly...