Rolled out from a barrel.
Roll erratic down the streets with concrete feet.
Convulsive. Sick but smiling - looking for some meat you can fall
makes a story - you can tell it to your friends and you're the end!
You got their envy - not a bit like one of them.
No kings in a closet! creeping past the nightclubs.
Fleeting glances at the thighs with furtive eyes.
Uncertain. Fingers seaching, find the b**by prize that earns you
jeers and tears that tear your out.
It's smarter just to run.
It's much more fun where you belong safe in your home you left alone
and softly moan on telephones to other kings in their closets. No harm.
Leafing through the ladies who reach out to touch your hand.
There's Mary "take me, make me, break me softly.
Show me what you've got!" Its not a lot but she still smiles
cos she's a pictue, just a tease and there to
please and ease the pain of kings in their closets.
No harm.