I was sweet on her
She was sweet on Jesus
We slept with a
blanket barrier between us
Master of her craft, I had her laughin like hyenas
When I asked her if she'd marry an elitist
Staggering genius in lace
With the grace of a drunken monk
The mask isn't seamless
cause her face says something's up
But I don't dare ask her I just listen
Switchin to my good ear and adjusting my position
As she discusses Ginsberg I listened and learned
As she dispersed his words I just resisted the urge to do like he would
Whatever he wanted, if she allowed me to
She dangled that carrot then asked me:
"What would Bukowski do?"
Oh don't go there
He'd make you his mom
and then completely lie about it in a book later on
Got up this morning
Didn't know right from wrong
- Sage Francis, Got Up This Morning
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