South End of a North Bound Horse

Those  lips did smoke from within
Very hot air to kill any kind of love
Like prosperous balloons they rip apart
One in crime without being hurt.

I call them Jamaican waves of love
That made the lovers in their jovial frolly
After all one bears the heat above
Slipping all throughout in jolly.

Let me die in your lips when we war
So far so they can pull my heart
In my conquest of your polite lips
I give it a damn if they are fart.