happy **** day, **** me
**** you, humpback **** front
don't stop, follow dotted lines
until you find the little treasure spot
get a little wierd with love
get a little wierd with me

you aren't safe out there, kiddo
just stick with me, too much
talk in the office about us
make out behind a filing cabinet
stuck on the phone all day telling
everybody we're going
to be alright, happy hunting

your words make me cold
and it's because i'm writing about you
that things seem so deep

can maybe we can restart
but i'm loving the new scars
you left on the outside of my skin
fit like a glove on my hand

and deep inside i want to get a tattoo
with a phrase or two that you've said
to maybe make myself sober

scraping enough coin together
isn't a sought after chore
there's always a payment needed
to settle an invoice's score

the wage packet slim
ever stretched right out
no surplus bucks for
a good bandy about

being short of funds
that's the jingle to sing
a red ink cheque account
can't afford any bling

luxury items are but
a rich codger's domain
being well cashed up
with plenty of grain

money
has
us
under
the
veritable  
gun
a
lack
of
it
ain't
much
fun

the landlord has called
to collect the rent  
he'll get paid and it'll
leave a wallet dent

as day progresses
the wind's tempo has grown more
by eve she'll blow well

i call my ambition, sergeant giggs... don't ask; i also call my left foot lady cantona, it's just regarding the manchester united dream team from the mid 90s.*

oi! oi! that strange perfume in my garden
has come back!
i don't like it! i know i'm growing garlic
and rosemary & mint & jasmine in it,
but i'm not liking the eerie honey ****
of it, that i might liken to female genitals,
no!
   *******!
                  get these gnats away from me!
feed em to the bankers!
       point being, if i were ever an islamic
martyr, and i'd get to the "sacred" gardens,
much akin to the hanging gardens of babylon
and i'd be like...
     wait a minute, i didn't ask for solomon's
gym routine, i didn't ask for *******
gym membership scheme!
   i said, i said that i wanted 72 watermelons!
who said that 72 virgins is a reward?
where are my 72 watermelons?!
i want my ******* 72 watermelons!
   1 woman is enough! enough as in:
one too much!
   yes, i know nature it cruel, and it proved
that by providing more women than men,
and that when an ****** hits their egos
and shatters them all hell breaks loose...
no! i didn't sign up for a gym membership!
i want my 72 watermelons!
     take your virgins and shove them
into fairy-airy stories, or up my ***!
        how could 72 virgins ever be so appealing
as to take the lives of others?
   i asked for heaven, not a gym membership...
idiots are going to be hating the notion
after a few hours:
well... gotta **** 'em all...
otherwise the ones not ******, will go straight
to king solomon, with his permanent
****** **** fusion...
   just give me the 72 watermelons and ****
off with your "promises"...
      i wasn't promised **** all upon
birth in this world,
   but the promises of 72 virgins in the "next" world
seems more like a curse, than honey-dew;
i'd rather worm through
   a library of books worth-the-reading,
than a bunch of girls: "worth-the-****";
well yeah, "the" oops;
muslims: monkey mentality, even after death;
me? i was imagining it as:
                       a brain in a pickle jar;
then again, i'd love to chat with 72 prostitutes,
gone down the train ride of waggle waggle...
plus the drinking helps...
   less gym orientation mind you:
the already exhausted ***** 'elp a 'ittle.