Strawberry Blue Thursday Blues

Hey, Heart-Prostitute
You steal my vessels
Imagination destitute
Damn I can’t procrastinate
Jah rises in your pupils

I like, Like a lyrical cripple
I’m ripped to the ripples
With your solo quintet burnin couplets
Brawling double epithets
Lets jive, lets strive

Incredibly hulked up, my super hero
You stood there and said
Baby lets go down dizzy lane
Opened my wardrobe with my war-robe
Trojan horse my Jay-Zee
My voice horse

Tonight my love
You and me
Dream race course
Jackpot with pot
You and I
One with Jah
In one hot slot
Gunslinging smiles one-way
And one sling-shot
Talala

Can The Autumn Leaves Just Fly Away With Me?

It is cold outside and the pianos are frozen, Jazz musicians stand by the dozen as drugged as, Their bright glimmering grey brass instruments, My heart flies recklessly to and fro bobbing and weaving, Laughing at a chick in a short skirt, in high heels graduating; Peeling away softly with a song confused in monotonic happy-ness, The dull drum of love pounds itself to a lull, with clean satire; I’d rather be somewhere else than here.