Nothing to go by, I have
But one faint scar
(‘Tis but a scratch! A scratch!)
Left upon my left
Palm.

Right upon my write.
I sneer and spit
I cheer and kick

It is the barbed wire, the silver snare
The flesh, the scar, the broken chair
The croak of your larynx
The nicotine lips
The small sips
Of me.

And the end, so near!
You probably smelt it
So that was the end
Our hearts a-melted.

You sat up, you tasted, you spat me out
Just as we went through that roundabout.
And this scratch, but a scratch
Upon my left palm
Was your gift, but a gift
Of your love and your charm.

You love me! You love me!
They all said it was true
I swallowed that love
So.
Goo goo g'joob.