There were looms inside her mouth Spinning yarns like angry birds And there were threads of lies and doubt Getting tighter with each word -Entwined in arcs -Shaped like question marks -That hung -From that tongue There were smokescreens blown so thick You couldn't see the pointed fork And there were clues that darn and flick Until the pie-hole blew its cork -The storm had come -Hot air wind shear from -Those lungs -And that tongue -Those lungs -And that tongue There were floats all wreathed in red Big phony flowers stained in ink And all her nurses bowed their heads Decked out in gaudy shades of pink I watched them all Line up for the casting call Of a fool Who believes With his heart on his sleeve -The storm had come -Hot air wind shear from -Those lungs -And that tongue -Those lungs -And that tongue