Don’t Forget Whose Legs You’re On
The painted faces congregate in the mating season
To second homes they go alone, in no rush to leave ‘em
And there’s a fountain and a scimitar-shaped yellow light
It picks you up and cuts you down to size
The people there and the furniture start to seem important
A moment more and you catch the floor with a vivid and absorbant
Sharpened arc, like the scimitar-shaped yellow light
That picks you up and cuts you down to size
I had questions for the tap dancer sat on my lap
And she had child-proof caps on her answers
Stone blower, blow me a stone and show me that handsome enhancer
She had a rock on her throttle and a brown glass bottle
Full of shavings from the Sun
Although those shoes affect your step
Don’t forget whose legs you’re on
And there’s a fountain and a scimitar-shaped yellow light
It picks you up and cuts you down to size