Best Ready That Umbrella

Bubbles, hour-gem; we both wear the Burger King crown at parties at faces new at each other, sometimes. I just wanted you to know I'd wear it in the park, in the room or in the bed if I had too. I'm in trouble, here Every word has a snare and a guitar chord trailing. It's like an 'Orleans funeral 'round here lately with death and jazz-bone funk. Have you a parasol? Theres lemonade enough to see us through, I think if you enjoy a trumpet when we embrace. I wonder what march the band will play on a morning street next to a makeshift nest when we grief-worn white flag torn skin wet ribbons on a chair relent to soft joy finalatiy when we make love? Regardless I have a silver moontear to cradle and she loves music of all kinds, so we move to a rythym in our paper crowns laughing. SM.