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For thee and thy new forest For the captain’s chance at prose Nine lemons and a tall order of men Who seed the way above my bed At last wishing for alcohols So to the Tide for whereabouts Absconded to there, My Brother, And see you there, My kin

To cross the wing with pay at score I was in heaven with you my Brother We decided Rome was ours And stayed at Mars- The Rod took us there

And in fastest flight to Armadale It was three years in test For our Hydrogen bomb We were Swiss and played all our cards To Israel which prayed for Time

Egon Krenz The mortal star Of Africa he supposed On line 2 And seventeen cadavers Just in Gothenburg alone

Lightly dusted book of you My truck manual for GPF As dismayed as the file system became And livetype to that wall we built

Sure it’s gray And so I am

In Briller Psych with Han The liturgy spells well for God So we got rid of it And impending disaster Which was freedom And airplanes And rebar And nothing

At least we didn’t heil hitler- But then suppose we were

No expression like the lies of war That sent ambulances for complaining To shops for Denmark And little bits of pork To scare every Western Away

We hid bombs in our forest By Acadia National Park And in the sixties What fun What treasure Killed JFK

Rod

It was the Eustache on behalf of a soviet