That fine fever brought us here

Lambasted eyeballs

When we kiss the dirt

The orchids laugh

What a gut pageant

We could play for hours

What a gut pageant

Meat for the flowers

You break out of a paper bag

And wake up on the street

Just kidding

You don't have to go

I asked him why the grass is blue

And stray boys don't go home

Why four a.m's so screwy

He says