He’s gone to London how the echo rings
Watching manure and compost coalesce
Where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
Yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
He bent right down to pick up his valise
Poetic license needs no strain or stress
The understanding critic firstly sees
They both are right not untamed mutterings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
Nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling stave
When masons clutch the breath we hold on loan
We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
The genealogist with field and fess
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
And let you off from your opinions glum
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave.



If I ever hurt you your revenge will be so sweet
If I'd stop lying I'd just disappoint you
I'm contemplating thinking about thinking
So rock and roll, so corporate suit
So self aware so full of shit
Tell about celebrities that I despise
Buy a yacht by Sunday
So well-trained, so animal
You gotta love your son
It's overrated just get another drink and
So damn ugly, so damn cute
Mix it on a Wednesday
We sing love songs
A young pretender and my crowds above can see
I just don't want to
A love song
Sell it on a Thursday
I am scum
So write another ballad
I pray that when I'm coming down you'll be asleep
So indecisive so adamant
So need your love, so fuck you all
So sincere
Sing a bunch of lies
They're selling razor blades and mirrors in the street
Love your son
Such a saint but such a whore
I come undone
I'm not scared of dying
And sing love songs
So unimpressed but so in awe
It's a love song
Do another interview
Watch me come undone