Across the plane, you’ll stay until bells ring
Till then, we’ll listen to the baby’s father
We’ll take instructions as good bees do
And clean the board of ghost marks later

Anthers are better than negative stigma
Boys that ride bikes are a past-present-future time
Girls with pretty pens draw pictures the same
Worms aren’t worth the scalpel without the smell and slime

She calls me a “sunset strip bitch”
And I reply, “you look so fine”
She wrote me as a cartoon
It’s my turn to make her the same kind

Mari, a girl who knows what hep means
She’s got a monkey in the bank
And a monkey atop her head
And a boy she’d like to – spank

Now, you’ve become the toon tori type
Here is a song that you may sing
As you leave me behind in your crazed run
You’ll be glad that jogger’s high kicked in

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