Parables
Floating through the air
Fishing out the last
Remains of indiscriminate bastards
Fuck the loose mentality
That we’re all ok
Fuck the smart girl
She has never worn dignity
Like the whore walking Main
Swim the mighty canal
Float the gnarly seas
Figure the angels wings
As they cloud your sober mind
Unlike the hairy bastard
Who prances around like the fool
Fuck the merry longfellow
When he turns around to glance a blow
Then the tulips that have been stolen
From the figured lands of the holy
They’ve been tainted like a bastards tongue
Of the King’s royal litter
But the holy men that haven’t kissed me
Shall linger by their pole
The wine toting maidens
Shall throw eyes my way once more
It’s business as usual
Down at the Hawley; torn and blown
I’m not here to pull on your
Thunder you’ve bloated with
I’m not going to steal what matters
To your lambs and whithered tongues
I’ve left your silly buggers
To dance your awkward dance
So hug your merry bastards
Lay your fingers down
I’ve left your countenance long
I’ve let you pull your fingers as you may
Don’t whip your hair
Your greasy hair
I’ve worn your stripes
I’ve calmed your mare
Nobbin, bloody nobbin