Mothballs n Piss
Modern day pseudo hieroglyphics
Speaks of modern day specifics
Mothballs n piss, a puddle on the floor
Someone's left their number on the door
Written in Sharpie says the author is Ken
Wrote it all down with his felt tipped pen
Warns us he's 10"long, & to 'be here by 8'
Checked my watch panic, thank fuck I'm late!
No symbols of pharaohs, asp or cat
What's that a scarab?, no, says its his girlfriends twat
21st century papyrus lends to the pen
Heart stopped, checked watch, remembering Ken!
Toon army left their prose, & a Makum is a cunt
He stood in pissheads piss, his brain incontinent
Terry shouts in pen, his ex Sandra is a whore
A fitting end to love gone sour, written on the door
Someone's attempting a glorious glory hole
In a few short stints he'll have reached his goal
Almost removed the hard melamine barrier
Then make a start on the soft chipboard interior
Like a humanoid beaver he gnaws away
Comes to his lodge day after day
Cottaging, cruising he's got all the lingo
& he'll Pop his cock through while the wife's at the bingo
Tiptoeing gently, but not through the tuplips
En pointe through sewage right up to my armpits
99% of all know germs in the floors & the walls
If yer dropped yer Mams ashes you'd not have the balls
Be like unearthing hell behind the loo
Don't even have the nerve to sit down for a poo
A canopy of images, a library to the stupidity of men
A social history of of modern mans ablutions, enter Ken!