foul mouth

you're in rapture my dear

if you ever come near

hell's belt with a frown

turn your town upside down

and here's a little with youth

silly coy and uncouth

i will settle you down

when your menace surrounds

from serene to the sick

many coils that stick

to all our leather boots

rattled with fickled truth

and i am tired of your mouth

when you're talking about

the injustice of speech

on a bus to the beach

the heat up here's divided time

with earthly men on concubine

and circles strangled clever girls

who dress up in their mother's pearls

i remember you still

yellow fangs and sick pills

sucking on your own blood

calling cards to crack up

in a forest with beasts

our old lady found peace

grabbed its tail with her teeth

and drove her son into the sea