I spend my time to write this song.
I lick each line with longing tongue
Like a man whose knell is rung,
Exhausted, wasted, gone to seed—
Sweet, you fill my deepest need
To watch you grow, aspire, advance
Strutting in your underpants.
Tasty as a drop of dew,
You eat me and I eat you.
Little song, run to your mother
While we join to make another.
She is sweet as you are sweet.
We suckle both at Fancy’s teat.
What a joyful waste of time
To embrace the waist of Time.
12/3/2014
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