The Edge Of Perfect Death
I met her running down the alley… Sirens blaring on the street
She had tools up front and behind… And a trap between her thighs
She didn’t need to say much… To make me want to lick and touch
She said running from the police… Sure makes a wild girl Thirsty
After drowning in liquid courage… I asked with slurred verbiage
Tell me all about youuuuu… Please don’t spare an ounce of truthhhh
She said go ahead and quote me… Here’s what I believe about me
I don’t believe in panties and bras… I don’t believe in gun laws
I don’t believe in slow rides… It’s just a form of slow suicide
I don’t believe in the need for jails… Or in the need for gates at hell
I don’t believe in wedding rings… Or degrees from liberal universities
I don’t believe in psychiatry… Or witchcraft called psychology
I don’t believe in long relationships… Or having sex without whips
I don’t believe in long kisses… Or leaving behind unburned bridges
I do believe in pushing wild sex… To the edge of perfect death
I do believe I’m unpredictable… And men are simply disposable
Yeah… Men should spend time… With a women that blows their mind
That was about when… A dozen cops came busting in
The judge believe I lied… And called me the getaway guy
So now I’m doing 5 To 9… With her cluttering my tangled mind
With her tools up front and behind… And a trap between her thighs
Wishing we could have sex… On the edge of perfect death

High Desert Sky
Texas Style Songwriter
And Storyteller Poetry.
© Paul H. Keeler… A Cosmic Cowboy