The tripping sun finally fell off the skies

And dispersed into a thousand streetlights

Avenues of blow-kisses and fistfights

Come alive in a motley disguise



Throwing lasso-words, smelling like booze

With facial hair of a macaque-rhesus

Slim and weary, and dressed like Jesus

A weirdo-poet is on the loose

Crying eyes off and laughing in stitches
Filled with eerie nocturnal creatures
The hybrid of a catwalk and sperm bank
Streets are like an exotic fish tank



There is a flock of complex hairdos

Silk-slick ladies with painted talons

Look for lawyers, but find felons

And gently funnel them into I-dos



A proud pink piggy with a pale ponytail

Is in a tight tank top prancing south

A wattle wobbles under her pelican mouth

A sign of a torture by diets that fail

Crying eyes off and laughing in stitches
Filled with eerie nocturnal creatures
The hybrid of a catwalk and sperm bank
Streets are like an exotic fish tank



Harden guns, abs hidden in Ed Hardy

Eyes on a target one hundred percent

Nostrils look for the pheromone scent

There is a pack of lush egos in hunting



Here she goes – on the hooves of a gazelle

Gives them the look hottest in a city

Alluring, long like the neck of Nefertiti

The pack of egos falls under her spell



Crying eyes off and laughing in stitches
Filled with eerie nocturnal creatures
The hybrid of a catwalk and sperm bank
Streets are like an exotic fish tank

Do you see yourself in it?
Where do you fit?