I have no excuse for butterflies 

they wind down the wind

flutter by like newspaper headlines 

confidential files opened carelessly 

 

I've often hoped for X-rays

of your eyes so I could see

inside lies meant for plumbers 

plummeting from the skies 

 

It only opens needful ointments 

Indigo iodine blue denim breeches

of faith and fashion yourself 

a gin tonic you'll need one

 

They got a way of getting away 

with everything I was thinking