what a palaver there’s no doubt she dished dirt the full kitchen sink like some tacky soap I said lend me your body I’ll wipe that smile off your face a little dark humour from a darker place you know who you’ll answer to back indoors you can’t beat that peach they bruise too sweet she was dancing with moondogs she dances real good but her mind is gone still, any old tart in a storm
she was
looking for someone to submerge
herself in someone to redeem her
dreams but life shows little mercy I didn’t have the space and her motion made me sick we was shacked up less than a week before we sprang one that’s the trouble with submarines they are rarely observed and never experienced but I’I was in it for the kicks the rest is propaganda