New Artwork: The Art of Illusion

Who killed Miss Robin?

We, said the media hounds

With the scandal that we found

We killed Miss Robin.

Who saw her die?

We, said the paparazzi spies

With our cameras that never lie

We saw her die.

Who feeds off her blood?

We, said the watching masses

With every day that passes

We feed off her blood.

Inspired by vintage illusionists, levitation and an old English nursery rhyme 'Who killed Cock Robin?' Above is my reworked version relating to the world we live in today. Below is the original rhyme dating back to c. 1744.

-A

Who killed Cock Robin?

I, said the Sparrow,

with my bow and arrow,

I killed Cock Robin.

Who saw him die?

I, said the Fly,

with my little eye,

I saw him die.

Who caught his blood?

I, said the Fish,

with my little dish,

I caught his blood.

Who'll make the shroud?

I, said the Beetle,

with my thread and needle,

I'll make the shroud.

Who'll dig his grave?

I, said the Owl,

with my pick and shovel,

I'll dig his grave.

Who'll be the parson?

I, said the Rook,

with my little book,

I'll be the parson.

Who'll be the clerk?

I, said the Lark,

if it's not in the dark,

I'll be the clerk.

Who'll carry the link?

I, said the Linnet,

I'll fetch it in a minute,

I'll carry the link.

Who'll be chief mourner?

I, said the Dove,

I mourn for my love,

I'll be chief mourner.

Who'll carry the coffin?

I, said the Kite,

if it's not through the night,

I'll carry the coffin.

Who'll bear the pall?

We, said the Wren,

both the cock and the hen,

We'll bear the pall.

Who'll sing a psalm?

I, said the Thrush,

as she sat on a bush,

I'll sing a psalm.

Who'll toll the bell?

I said the bull,

because I can pull,

I'll toll the bell.

All the birds of the air

fell a-sighing and a-sobbing,

when they heard the bell toll

for poor Cock Robin.