Strung out on superlatives
Absolute and naked
Favorites or champions
Still conclude
So soft i faint
From lack of restraint
Eclipse the mystery
We can see its face
When flesh tones blur within
Your shirt and i keep it quiet
That i'm so austere and pious
Therein lies the waste-not
Upped on minor leisure
Who's scoring for fun but not me?
Offer over automatic
Of the good and wrong
We croon like bats
Making waves so the air contracts
[from The Rehearsal Dinner liner notes]
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