Pig-Me and the Whore

Big bottled fraulein, put your weight on me Said the pygmy to the whore Desperate for more in his assault upon the mountain little man his youth a fountain overdrafted and still counting vernacular verbose an attempt in getting close to where he came from in the doorway of the stars, between Blandford Street and Mars proposition deal, fly button feel testicle testing, wallet ever bulging dressed to the left divulging the wrinkles of his years wedding bell induced fears shedding bell end tears in the pocket of her resistance international assistance flowing generous and full to his never-ready tool pulls his eyes over her wool and he shudders as he comes and my rudder slowly turns me into the Marylebone Road