IN THE CITY CENTER
I'm outside the hat shop, watching some
queer wearing his blue derby. I wonder
what's with that. I'm in the city center,
where the young girls used to pine for
me, until I grew so ugly and old : a
battering ram hamster of yellow and
gold. Yet, they're still young, and I'd
still have them, show them a thing or
two. How to ride a mount, a trusty
steed. Where to plant their flowers,
how to plant the seed.
There's no sense in me pretending,
my fine and lovely lass. If I'm
still here in seven years
I'll kiss you on the ass.