Grumbling bellies voice concern
They work in and out
Search the sea for the starlets
To the flourished heaping harlots
"Go back home!"
Half-face doubt as god only knows
For many a Muse
Locked in chains of reverie
A bona fide fear of my contemporaries
I'll stay home
I'll dust off my singing now
There's a cheapness in a heart that ceases
A broken loan from a knock-off Burne-Jones
tapestry
It's just another thing I felt was real
A faun-like cunning with an impotent face
You fell out of grace
You ain't selling sun-rays, boy
As it turns out, the bell-sheep gets slaughtered like
the rest
The short-breath storms of a much older man
With unpaid dreams
He steams, "this is some sorrowful law!
What a drag to watch them squander it.”
It's an uneducated wastage
At best, it's all pastiche
Vainglorious & silly
Spinning 'til you're dizzy
It's the lie that makes them pretty
Ooh sha, la, la, la