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Tale From the Lore

I have seen so much of life how can I
Give meaning to the moving parts
The ass long dead on the playfield breathing still
Until some boy accurate with a stone
Hit the gut, as from the rectum spilled
A whole family of little pigs

I have dogs stuck in heat, and the hitch
Commanding the brute's location at her will
It was a marriage made of desire
He could not leave her and she would not retire
That old adage fell apart
For the dog could desert his sweetheart

I have seen human necessity too
The great songstress eating what she left in the loo
And on the walls was smeared
The sum of all she beared
And every place the same disgrace
The stench upon her comatose face

But mark this
Mark this skeptic of the supernatural kind
Mark the stories messing up his mind
Stories they tell at quiet evenings
Of apparitions and rolling calves, the three legged kind
Mark this without misgivings
The preach coming to it in the dark of early morning

For with sweating hand upon the door
He heard in the dark before his eyes
A sight invisible to his fear
There was a crop, crop, crop, on the lawn
And then clop, clop, clop with chains moving on
And I had no stone to count three
While throwing only two behind me
No salt for dry of mouth
All disbelief is vanished when sense shout
If you cannot comprehend by me
The rolling calf is in the vicinity
Lord, did you feel the slow leak down my knees
The coming closer of the darkening trees

O silly man child
Turn the lights on and behold
The donkey from your neighbor's fold
Taking your yard for his lost wild
Rattling his chain against his black coat.

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