Malarkey

Go disappear

Spare me the careful whisper

And don't come around here

This patch where I am tending to my

Infant fears

I love you, babe, nor do I

Oh my God, how you have grown

I pray to lose the seeds we've sown

No one is dead enough round here for us

Roll over, roll over, roll over this house

No one can get the stuff round here for us

Carry me, carry me, carry me far

Is it so wrong

To go lightly by the lamp-posts

Where swingers swing

In more pendulous bundles every season

Drifting through

Halls of indeterminate function

My wet-market abattoir

A tragedy to come this far

No one is dead enough round here for us

Roll over, roll over, roll over this house

No one can get the stuff round here for us

Carry me far

No one is dead enough round here for us

Roll over, roll over, roll over this house

No one can get the stuff round here for us

Roll over, roll over, roll over, roll over

Roll over, roll over, roll over, roll over

Roll over, roll over, roll over, roll over

Roll over, roll over, roll over, roll over