My nipples are cold from constant neglect -
Alas, wherefore burns this midnight oil
In, erm, the middle of the day?
I say, your bunny feels like golden heels
Prob'ly feel when left to boil
For far too long.
Alas!
A lass, a bass and a fortune teller
Went one day to my wine cellar
I really did try to tell her
That that's where I keep the bodies -
Did she listen? Nooo...
She just went on her way
(In this, the middle of the day)
To that city on the edge
Of forever.
*gasp*
Where hides my lovely maiden?
Well, I never played Ninja Gaiden
And for that I don't feel bad -
Scarcely clad though I may be
There's one thing that puzzle me:
What can stand between a man
And his tea?
Nothing, nothing I say!
Though right now,
On this day,
I must proclaim
That tea is tame
And the name
Of the game
Is shame;
If you're a fortune teller, of course.
Damn it, man! You see only a heap of broken images
Where the tea beats in unison with my heart -
Hear me, hear me, I say! Screw your metaphors
And have with tea away.
...
Right now, staring at the bulging sea
Of my train of thought
Damn, I could go for a cup of hot tea...
...
I could. I ought to.
Just for me.
