This God of A Thousand Mouths

this god of a thousand mouths

lilly white in the footsteps of a jew.

of course no serenade

the music empty. coast is ever clear.

there is no son to walk with

to talk of imperfections in the bladder of a shrew.

there's no carbon nor a copy-cat 

now the sneeze of a happy sleeping pill

asks nothing more of bygone days and you.

I do, of course I do.

'till death depart from the quay we lovers hang.

it was the third glass eye that winked us back to life;