Bronzed-up skin,
Unrecognized sin,
Body so hot,
I've turned into a salt lick.
The grass houses the mud,
And the mud houses the ants,
Coffee super slow,
Forged a fur coat,
Tufts tapped to my shirt,
Though whose—I don't know.
wise old trees,
Who can tell if they feel the breeze,
And my life is such a tease,
Just yesterday I let it go to third base,
I gave it a taste of me.
My beloved Zach D,
Freedom... yeah, right!
~Rage Against the Machine,
Kept my conscience clean,
But she did not,
And I would love to share the details with you,
But I am not my mother,
And how could I live so long,
Never come close to discovering her?
My thoughts on the matter are never sure.
Priscilla in my eyes,
Desire between your thighs,
I dare you to talk, and speak no lies.
Jim Morrison sings in the back of my head;
For Janis Joplin's sake it's better he's dead.
Mutated pickle parts,
Swimming in formaldehyde,
Caged in jars—
Have you ever noticed how men grab their tits when they say the pledge?
Latex straws,
Anger gnaws,
Her voice sounded like the click of a high heel on the floor,
A mind that always knew the score,
Still, the senses wanted more.
If you could take a peek,
My memories are really quite chic.
