Symphony of Smut

from by Sycamore Smith

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lyrics

Excuse my sullen spew
But I've got half a mind to split my skull in two
Oh, lucky me, the 10:03 is pulling through
I guess I'll lay my head down on the rail
On second thought I'll pass
And seek salvation at St. Lucy's midnight mass
Where I shall contemplate the Virgin Mary's
Assumption into Heaven - what a tale
-----
Oh, symphony of smut
Rotten crops and squatter huts
Rheumy eyes, cramped guts
And though your shanty shades are shut
The Lord will watch you while you rut
Oh, God, you naughty sod
Tut, tut, tut
-----
Like putty in my mitts
The brainy beauties all line up to do the splits
Their lads are cads, and I am dripping with dry wit
A bookworm bird will drool for something droll
And I love the wild chases
That follow pinching subway cops in nether places
I grab a ham and wham, it's off to the races
Till I'm caught and cuffed and plunged in some dark hole
-----
If you travel to my hovel
Please wear a wig betwixt your legs, I beg and grovel
For I've been working on my great merkin novel
It's a dark and twisted yarn told with panache
But my spine is going slack
And I keep dreaming of a gleaming iron track
On second second thought, I want that train to smack my brain
And scatter it so scavengers can nosh

credits

from Grosspapa, released May 29, 2017
Lyrics by Sycamore Smith

tags

tags: folk Marquette

license

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about

Sycamore Smith Marquette, Michigan

I love it when you call me grosspapa

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