my shoe was censored
what a find, what a find.
this socking
this socking cap will do just fine.
when you close your eyes
behind the silence you can hear the
violins caused by your typing
they're backed up by the rattling
they wear a blue jumpsuit, fuzzy like grover.

and their feet are in stockings like mine.
she tells you that he's a groover
you listen that he's ballooner
why does she always get mad?

the letters make curves sometimes,
and that's okay for everybody.
what leaves us tomorrow
cannot be boxed away
it is not a machine gun