If it's shitey then it's good!

when your swerve is in season the moths will all die.
i'll stand at the edge of your garden and work on just breathing right.
good night, sleep tight- but leave the porch light on, babe
in case it dont go right.
wether the larks presume to know me or know,
those which are lustful are the most poignant and bold.
avocado grows above, i eat the fruit and save the seed,
and i feel their essence striving, this is how i know you love me.

black night comes slowly, an accordians breath.
i'm building a house for a picture of my mother which i've not shown you yet.
i'm on the moon, it's cold and it's snowing,
her pants are so tight and the bullseye is glowing,
but then i smile, once again
to myself in the evening when i'm with my friends.

i can't love but i have to try, hang my dreams on a lullabye.
one of us had to have the guts to try it,
you can take aim but i remain defiant.
some men are prone to misadventure,
theres quite a few things that i'm a not gonna mention...
p.s. if it's shitey then it's good

the balance of greenery and blossoms is upset by your presence.
i don't, i don't want to...
i don't want to turn and feel the sudden silence of your scent.

scrambled eggs here, i've taken leave of my senses!
getting real curious about the horoscope of my dentist...
since i haven't got one, teeth is all rotten!
but i know the difference between 2 and 2...
all the things to be done, you want me to do them to you.
but, 'however slow my marches be,
i will at last sit down by thee'