Weekend Undercover

I knew it was a Saturday morning; Yet, in the midst of dreams I slept. Hands in the boiler room, warring; Carpet guns fired as six legs crept. Yet, in the midst of dreams I slept; And, came that man with bulging eyes. Carpet guns fired as six legs crept Over a pulsing flesh with flies. And, came that man with bulging eyes, Who searched for his missing thing Over a pulsing flesh with flies -- Who came to my bed to feel and wring. Who searched for his missing thing? I felt it flex -- the fingers cling. Who came to my bed to feel and wring? My voice it died; my throat did sting. I felt it flex -- the fingers cling. Hands in the boiler room, warring. My voice it died; my throat did sting. I knew it was a Saturday morning....