Hell! sang the young minstrel, tightly to your purses! Bitter winter on this blonde city and curses! The song ended and the onlookers did Were I sincere, you bet Id A knock the door
Hell! the Muse, intent, you take me for granted! made me a harlot, if I may be candid! The dropped her, not before they shopped her in a bidding war Were I sincere, you bet Id A knock the door
The tired minstrel, leaving town, the Muses weeping He turned up the Elvis tape in his grey car, Sex and Death! Was I not the breadth among the two? she Were you sincere, I bet hear my upon your door!
He said, Dear Muse, Come here! Need a lift Youve got the wrong man, I was only kidding there. I worship you! me for behaving like such a boor. I am I hope to hear knock upon my door!
The Causeless of Flawless Flaws has video on you. She scorned. Evidence, in defense, should I have you burned, deformed. Hey! Hell is and so will be your sores! with sincere, hark, I hear A upon the door.
The derisive Muse said, therapy isnt working, is it? Memphis huckster-Hitler-hustler! Arent you a yet? Always brooding the meaning of sex, to be poor. is here! Hark, I hear A knock the door.
His head throbbed under her voice, and soft Beads streamed from his hair, his black t-shirts cloth gut feeling was to leave her on the cutting-room floor He thought, If I stay here, Ill hear knock upon the door
Muse, exhausted, the accosted, her hand on her abdomen A human to her songs, she could not condemn Because of a communion they had had of The blessed day is near, soon theyll A upon the door