hothouse

those nosey redheads.
ive seen your cash.
but wheres the class.?
in the room where I sleep she keeps horses she keeps
talking talking talking talking talking talking about wine and horses.

the walls are wet with easy earnings,
there's a sad corner stack of uneasy learnings.
she pauses, she says "fuck" for effect.
her hahahahangover is gonna need another namecheck.

is this a bull or a bear town?
the girls all wear their hair in bobs around here.
and it is worse than we feared,
they have come for our hats, they have come for our beards.

but I spent my life savings of filter coffee.
this is something they can never take off me.
this is something they can never take off me.
never.
never.

I've got this burial plot in canada square where the sexed-up mob sweeps from here to there.
She looks at the sky and says, "it's a little too blue today, isn't it?".
we're past the push now, where we shut up about the who and how,
bullshit and bullion bronze bullion.
relentless, dry-mouthed and friendless in the hothouse.
hothouse.
hothouse.
hothouse.
hothouse.