Everybody needs a place
To hide and tend their sores.
All God’s failures need some space
Afternoons, the threes and fours,
They chomp and nip your heel.
And then the limbs and then the cores.
Armor’s fine, but it’s just steel,
And it will turn to rust.
Then you’ll be naked on the wheel.
Life and all, a total bust,
Goddamned bills and half-darned sock.
Never figured who to trust.
A sloppy mind and droopy cock,
Door’s still got a healthy lock.