The dismal floors of the forest of dismay,
Watch her beauty spread fire like an explosive enquiry,
To which I confess that I’m fuckin’ blown away
I’m choking on sunshine in a filthy cabaret,
Sunshine that kisses her tender, textural grace,
She jolts and cajoles all our sodden senses,
As she hypnotically erases all songs in her praise
There’s something about this mistress of poise,
More poisonously potent than the helium I inhaled,
Could she be the reason why airplanes crash?
Why submarines sink and trains are derailed
If the last junction in our journey of faith,
Is in watching these dismal woods go down in glory,
Then the powers that be need my strongest persuasion,
To allow me to play some small part in her story.
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