He dreams from the moment he awakes. The bacon is frying to garnish his plate The tattered curtain cord's a snake the cat out the window came by for a date. ( Unless it turns with great aplomb And emits the song of an angry tom.)
Ice box and other doors open to serve him. Window screens are for him to rip out.
And the beautiful, wonderful smell of his urine Lends a quaint charm to our mutual house. (This is merely what he thinks. Actually, his quaint charm stinks.) |