Didn't
I see you down in San Antone on a hot and dusty night?
We were eating eggs in Sammy's when
the black man there drew his knife.
Aw, you drowned that Jew in Rampton
as he washed his sleeveless shirt,
You know, that Spanish-speaking gentlemen,
the one we all called "Kurt."
Come now, gentleman, I know there's
some mistake.
How forgetful I'm becoming, now you
fixed your bus'ness straight.
I remember you in Hemlock Road in
nineteen fifty-six.
You're a faggy little leather boy
with a smaller piece of stick.
You're a lashing, smashing hunk of
man;
Your sweat shines sweet and strong.
Your organs working perfectly, but
there's a part that's not screwed on.
Weren't
you at the Coke convention back on nineteen sixty-five
You're the misbred, grey executive
I've seen heavily advertised.
You're the great, gray man whose daughter
licks policemen's buttons clean.
You're the man who squats behind the
man who works the soft machine.
Come
now, gentleman, your love is all I crave.
You'll still be in the circus when
I'm laughing, laughing on my grave.
When
the old men do the fighting and the young men all look on.
And the young girls eat their mothers
meat from tubes of plasticon.
Be wary of these my gentle friends
of all the skins you breed.
They have a tasty habit - they eat
the hands that bleed.
So
remember who you say you are and keep your noses clean.
Boys will be boys and play with
toys so be strong with your beast.
Oh Rosie dear, doncha think it's queer,
so stop me if you please.
The baby is dead, my lady said, "You
gentlemen, why you all work for me?"