deepundergroundpoetry.com
No Ice Cream Or Cake
I can't give you anything,
no ice cream or cake,
but Methane gas, baby,
rising from the grave
with the eyes of the hare
but don't you think, maybe
you could stir my bones
and part my hair
for old auld lang syne
after giving me the mange
with the long-lost fleas
from up your sleeve...
I can't give you anything
but Methane gas, baby,
rising from the grave
no ice cream or cake,
but Methane gas, baby,
rising from the grave
with the eyes of the hare
but don't you think, maybe
you could stir my bones
and part my hair
for old auld lang syne
after giving me the mange
with the long-lost fleas
from up your sleeve...
I can't give you anything
but Methane gas, baby,
rising from the grave
Published 9th Oct 2022
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9th Oct 2022 9:15pm
10th Oct 2022 2:14am
