Gypsum
I don’t get that much time alone these days but I’m not complaining.
She’s at the gym she says but who can say for sure; you know how they are;
But this isn’t about her it’s about me and I miss my little ditties.
Like the guy from Nantucket and the old man from bras;
While the iron maidens boyfriend picks at the hasp.
The young girls with dresses that they lift from the floor;
Having sex with the bad man and screaming for more.
Jill, she took jack; to a place on the hill;
But he couldn’t have her; because she ran out of pills.
Dylan and Guthrie; looking for jobs;
And the girls with their chap stick; all drunken on grog.
I could go on but what does it matter;
It’s all just some gypsum; apparently splattered.
So I’ll loan you these two packs; if you’ll pay me five;
And tomorrow it’s coffee and listening to jive. .
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