Monday, July 20, 2009

The Sun's Over The Yardarm

crippled is the true tune of strutting

mayhem is to-morrow’s clarion call

my baby’s in black

my heart’s in a sling

my mind is gone gone gone

pickled is the one way of staying

sour is on the wind today

my foot’s on the pedal

my head’s in the wildflowers

my song is gone gone gone

hammered are the bits of pieces

drift is the smell of going

my caryatid is carrying a heavy load

my hope is wishy-washy

my love is gone gone gone

fetched are the failings of tiptop

lent is the armor of forgiveness

my hanky isn’t panky

my bravery’s jumped off a bridge

my misery is gone gone gone

cool is the skinny on the rain

fresh is fattening up with lye

my pucker is kissed off

my bland is riled

my worry is gone gone gone

guts are the food of riffraff

ruts are lost in a cut of cloud

my hurt is misbehaving

my lie is honest

my money is gone gone gone

coups are the mercy of fists

leap is the low of up

my belly is busted

my eyes are lost

my dreams are gone gone gone

less is moored to wrong

rites are done in style

my cup is drained

my please is thanked

my here is gone gone gone