Sailing sweet by sofa,
sofa lady sees my day to date,
Hither up in arms, not so much of late to date.
Serving seat,
he platters plenty weeks of meningitis,
It is oh so nice to be so touched,
so touched by two somnets.
He mits next to nothing,
nothing sits besides the leather,
Nothing petrifies at all,
no forced camping by the window.
The coffee's turning cold, so cold you file it,
Under thirteen-thirteen trascos of the window,
And she hides to be seclusive.
Faints at being busy,
faints disliking boys,
Pretends to be deaf,
says she's got no telephone,
Says she's got her homework,
then she says she just went out,
Outside says she's in the house,
the house then torches me,
Sprays me with a foaming,
foaming splurges me with water,
Sops me in my waking state, wets my tub of bath,
In backseat is she dreaming,
though not my favourite one,
The one I sat my mind upon,
the one I chose to thus deploy.
To woo and be charmer,
her to cater coffee,
Coffee meets with four eyes,
she claims to hate old music,
Stains not want to black out,
states full loss of sight,
Affected class with coffee,
the company still does like,
Lady sick for coffee,
sustained on liquorice pipes,
They have us maybe boys,
we do puff on liquorice pipes,
She calls my twins with programmes,
monopolises data,
I rose
from bed and woodwork,
up and moulders,
giants,
giants,
Glimming at my castles,
gigantic book of shelves,
Curling me with cuts,
cutting moves as well as roses,
roses,
Star upon my hand,
wheeling with my safety,
knocks me off with feathers,
Steals the soft from my lungs,
throws me off in all respects,
And rides me to the hills,
saves from hostile waters,
And there she sets the wrecking fleet,
and as I ponder upon her,
She splurges me with moist.