No one can defeat an army of naked, cold-hearted skanks,
They are mothers to us all, forgiven like saints,
The baby and the man side by side, the witch in the well—
A man named Tony appearing at the end of the old era—
She singing in harlequin garb like a gypsy—
She should know better than to hang around with Jews,
Now she’s for sale and her grandmother is for sale,
Her birth mother never spoken of—
Naked with Kenneth in a ditch, her glamour psychedelic,
Her nostrils superior to all others, gypsy riding a broom—
Her gloomy cataracts acting against her, the stars spinning,
Believing her eyes are clouds when I call at midnight
Her thickness in my bed, my futon on the floor, hay scattered,
Animals bleating, her sister boring holes in the thatched walls
To peer in at you naked and brown,
Moonlight gleaming on raised spread cheeks,
Glistening with atoms, coming in primal rivers,
The sudden thought of peeing in Alice Ghostley’s mouth
Almost making me come in my pants,
Watching her shitting her pants in the sixties, electro mundi—
That ass making me drool, she likes to be choked out—
Drinking brandy from he own vineyard, she roofies herself
As heiresses will do, a goddess in the garden and a whore in the wild, wide fields, granddaughter of a famous bacchante everyone still talks about—
PLAYBOY’s crooked blonde mafia, twenty below zero,
Underage Indian skanks drink vodka from the bottle—
An Asian girl’s shitter typically tasting of pineapple,
Forced onto her knees and made to suck cock in her dressing room—
The time traveling golden girl speaks Spanish to the alien—
There were no original skanks as far back as you can go
To the Scottish fields overgrown with tropical flora,
The barefoot maidens screaming out to Odin,
Jumping like wild animals infested with fleas the size of meatballs,
A jungle of golden beanstalks rising to heaven
And her name was Heaven, her mother choking on strange spit,
Every night I pray for a mother to f***
And my prayers are answered at Jesus’ feet,
F***ing Alice Ghostley in her toothless mouth
Just to shut her up, she doesn’t have a tight cunt,
Though everyone says she does, but she’s cute to wake up to,
Liking to be made love to as the sun comes up—
No one can defeat an army of street-battered skanks, sluts and saints
Tony hiding in the bushes, Tanya on her knees blowing a line of guys,
No one can stop mothers from being who they are,
Nor your mixed-race daughters, nor an army of skanks—
Plastic smiles and faces on the Barbie heads of cosmic whores
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