Hell! sang the young minstrel, tightly to your purses! Bitter winter on this blonde city and curses! The ended and the onlookers did roar Were I sincere, you bet Id A upon the door
Hell! went the Muse, intent, you me for granted! Youve me a harlot, if I may be candid! The label dropped her, not before shopped her in a bidding war Were I sincere, you bet Id A upon the door
The tired minstrel, leaving town, heard the Muses He turned up the Elvis tape in his car, creeping Sex and Death! Was I not the breadth the two? she poured Were you sincere, I bet hear my upon your door!
He said, Dear Muse, Come here! a lift somewhere? got the wrong man, I was only kidding back there. I worship you! Forgive me for behaving like a boor. I am sincere: I to hear knock upon my door!
The Causeless Cause of Flawless Flaws has on you. She scorned. Evidence, in none defense, should I you burned, deformed. Hey! is real and so will be your sores! Heck sincere, hark, I hear A upon the door.
The derisive Muse said, your isnt working, is it? Memphis huckster-Hitler-hustler! Arent you a Clear brooding the meaning of sex, pretending to be poor. Klock is here! Hark, I A upon the door.
His head throbbed under her voice, ubiquitous and streamed from his hair, soaking his black t-shirts cloth gut feeling was to her words on the cutting-room floor He thought, If I stay here, Ill never That knock the door
Muse, exhausted, the accosted, her hand on her abdomen A human voice to her songs, she could not Because of a communion had had of yore The blessed day is near, soon hear A knock the door