I’m naked at the worst of times.
Which is my way of saying,
I never know what’s going on.
Which is fun, but oh so wrong.
Last week I was in a restaurant in Paris
Where I’d eaten three live bunnies.
In my defence they were choc-fudge
And when prodded they didn’t budge.
On that note,
Hannibal Lecter is not a great dinner guest.
Or the best voice of reason,
I don’t think anyone is, who uses tears to season.
I often meet my third grade English teacher.
The one who was a werewolf,
And ate my best friend Chris.
She always tells me, that I can do better than this.
Sometimes I sing in a soul church,
Where the congregation are all instruments.
They rhythmically mock me
And complain when I’m off key.
My teeth keep falling out, so I plant them.
I now have fifteen tooth trees in my yard.
I’m at a loss what to do,
No one is willing to buy fruit they can’t bite into.
This may all be strange to you,
For me it’s just what I go through.
Because nothing is as it seems,
When you’re living the life of your dreams.