let me be your living Christ
and you shall be my Mary
written on a grain of rice
all buttered up and hairy
burned by men and scared of mice
and sixteen times as wary
let me make your life complete
and you shall heal my bruises
i'll conceal the lonely street
that every sad guy uses
doesn't matter how the beat goes
which the latest ruses
i am such an arsehole it
is almost unbelievable
such a worthless piece of shit
it's almost inconceivable
bollocks bollocks arse and tit
all prizes still achievable
let me be your living god
and you be my Lilith
rake the past and seek the odd
and take each scrap of pith
i shall fly and you will nod
and thus create the myth
Little Flower Book by Wayne Myers