Land of the nomans

Through the barren thicket
To the berry-laden footpath
Where imps tiptrip among feet and hooves
And nomads in nolands (welcomed by nomans) shake elbows cause nohands
Are there
And faeiries play lutes and tangerine flutes and steal steel boots (only sometimes with
toes still snuggled inside)
And all (or most) of the foods are pies 
Pay with flies or with lies in disguise because demise will fall when your toss them your name
Your feet will dance and prance and you may not stop even given the chance so stuff your pockets with coin
And loose lint and hard bread and as many secrets as hairs on your head
And hold your breath, hang on tight
Pluck a pint of luck 'afore you disappear into the night
When you go
You won't know how much time (it won't show) has ran by-me so blimey
Prepare to be swift and prepare to be just and prepare to be tricky and ran through with lust
And hold onto your hat and hold onto your head and if you lose either you may end up dead
And hear with your eyes and see with your ears 'cause it's not to everyone that this place appears