my shoe And waft and wind my way through you From the tangled
shroud of Sleep, I rose. Well, sort of like your uncle, rather, and
kink it till it's juice no longer flows To be or not to be an
athlete I now lay here lame And in between lies the realms of Hell. So
I cut her throat with a wire boogy woogy in the deep dark wilds
or else beat it and kill the fox