She just knows how
To clip my wishes
With implements meant for ditches.
In the ground
Soundly and viscus
Calcifies within my britches
And slip out
Among the kittens catching pestilence and sickness
Has me down
On my knees wishing for an answer to my wishes.
Baby don't bite.
I'm in it now,
The mood for lovin' like mousetraps behind the oven
On the prowl
All of a sudden a quite covetous curmudgeon
Body count
Blonde or brunetted, short hair, long hair, or red-headed
Headed out
To spread affection on the lookers and the wretched.
Baby don't bite.
Baby don't bite.
Here it comes
In forms beheaded with a halo made of lead
And I'm the one
Teething on leather belts to pass the time intended to
By something other than a soldering iron to mend
A broken heart in needed of blessings and a little antiseptic.
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