Lemon Song

The world of stuffing mannequins into a storage locker has passed me by

As too the world of clocks and the midnight shuttle bus

But as for the world of eating fruit from a golden stomach

Too old for that, never

But you could tell that to your worn sandals

What have you here? Ripe apricots

What have you here? My riding horse

Go now to the stable for your bath and post bath massage

Go now before I mount and ride you far beyond the golden outskirts

Go on now and don't nuzzle me with your mane

I'm far too old to be giving that kind of affection at will

But come back to me at night for a fervid pat

Come back when the campfire is making me perspire

Have you not heard me? Who are you cantering for?

Me? Don't canter on account of me

What have you here? What's that dangling in your mouth?

Cud? Is that a snaffle bit? A saddle?

Is that a holster?

Come closer

My eyesight is strained

Too much staring at the warm glowing things

There there

There there

Drop what you have