The Rhythm Section


I'm a glutton for the rhythm section
A glutton for the rhyme and the punch
A faggot with a cracked and bleeding lip
It's so hot in here the roof is perspiring
Out side it is warm with a pleasant little breeze
Ladies, three sisters, cackle and melt into one another
There lives are nothing more than floral dresses
Im the Faggot with the hairy chest
The one who built himself a wishing well
One handed- for I had an erection in the other
I look up to the sun bleached blue
I wonder if people have forgotten the winter already
If people have forgotten the ice on the river
Swollen and stuck like frozen apple cores
The children ride their bikes in zag-zag lines
With hair cuts that render sex dead for another 8 years
I feel the heat waves lay brown shades along my skin
And the radio plays Elton John
What can you do? When it is summer?
And Love has fallen down wishing wells
Reaching for water, reaching for shade
O! What a price to pay
The rhythm, the beat, we must dance
We must love be gluttons for the wave of heat
Yet... I am just a faggot! I am just a human!
I forget and I cry
Tears falling of my cheek and onto my cracked lip
Out side the tears dry so quickly
The ice cubed hearts melt and jackets are left in cars
Ladies, three sisters, fade away like their cheap floral dresses
And the sky starts to perspire
For we are the Faggots and we remember winter
We remember to build wishing wills
And we watch as love leans in to make a wish...
Im' a glutton for the Rhythm Section

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