Word Tune

The start is marked by a gravy weapon, Puppy barks answer the trumpets' call. The muzzle is loose, whispers are free, The light shines through the metal canvas wall. Gold insulation, thin as wool, The warmth is hard to find. The ember processor cools, And the processor servant leaves the silicone. A penthouse phallus on the street of rape The laptop is for the spouse. No need for a centimeter polisher, Just a sail and a television in the house. Grease the radio, pour the smoke, Liquor is for the cat. No solid pills or silver hats, Just a woman feeding with vinegar, that's all.