When the little salad onion br saw the knife of stainless steel, br she forgot her crippling bunion br which would have to wait to heal br later when the danger's gone. br So the little onion fled br from the table down and on br to the dachshund's fluffy bed. br br Down the stairs, onto the street, br stranded in the dirty gutter, br staring into sure defeat br together with the utter clutter. br br Came a gust of winter weather, br brought more stuff into the curb. br One of them, a great big feather. br Thought the onion, 'Ill disturb br this dilemma for my sake.' br br At that moment the street sweeper br came, and -with her life at stake- br quickly prayed to God, her keeper br where her prayer then was heard. br br Southern winds can be uplifting, br go and ask a passing bird, br one of those, now coming, shifting br some heavy things around the town. br br Picked up both stowaway and feather, br the onion mumbled 'Up, not down', br it was a godsent, this foul weather. br And that is how, from any salad br an onion can escape my friend. br If you enjoyed this truthful ballad br you've read to here, which is the end.