Land Lord
invite a flower in your mist
it won't do the mischief of miss
for a drop of water to do the mischief
of you my dear with an agenda
to clean the carpet of rule with spill
of scotch to pretend it was vodka
to soil my carpet until you disappear
the wash out of my eyes for good
for the renew of you out in a dream
scot looking in the mirror
hardly a celt to protect in a closet
of pretend the repair of grids.
and so my dear you are out
of my space as of in thirty day or so
will deal with the damaged
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