My little English unstable friend,
Wobbling out of sidewalks onto streets, that lead to nevers
Alleyways and deadends
Along the wharf the parkway bends
The sailor has been thus way forever,
But you are but a drunken carpenter,
Your legs are accustomed to roofs and hallways, the legs get all wobbly on
This stream and even some astute drunken sailors have drowned, but keep up stumble on ways into the blackness become a floating warning
Come tomorrow morn, lad.
You know.
The faults of all are envy lust and too much broth at the bar,
The bar, the bar down on
Wharf avenue.
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 12:29 AM UTC
My little English unstable friend,
Wobbling out of sidewalks onto streets, that lead to nevers
Alleyways and deadends
Along the wharf the parkway bends
The sailor has been thus way forever,
But you are but a drunken carpenter,
Your legs are accustomed to roofs and hallways, the legs get all wobbly on
This stream and even some astute drunken sailors have drowned, but keep up stumble on ways into the blackness become a floating warning
Come tomorrow morn, lad.
You know.
The faults of all are envy lust and too much broth at the bar,
The bar, the bar down on
Wharf avenue.
