sh.t.

Brown and black and all that's long I think to me I found the mouthful
of days gone hiding in a cavity.

It seems to me though I digress a mouthful of sh.t and the faggot knows
best from dusk to dawn and what's lies beyond I think of thee in my dire
sh.t-soaked sea swimming in a brown pool of delightful stench that
comforts me.

As I walk beside flowers on a clear spring day I daydream of a bucket of
sh.t laying in my path to trip me up and remind me where I belong with a
mouthful of sh.t and some big black dong who's name happens to be Ray on
this summer spring day.

Oh sh.t how I love thee.