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You say that I'm a bigot. No sir! No sir! |
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I have lots of swishy friends around, I do, I do-dah-do |
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But a bunch of those together |
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Can only do the Devil's work, and it's the Devil's work they do |
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Finding beauty in ugly things is alright...to a point! |
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And have you seen that cross-breed of the high-brow and the low? |
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It's a note tied to a brick that reads: |
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Freedom, foul freedom, we are free to foul whatever, and we will |
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Why can't these people see? Theirs is a life of mimicry |
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They are fathers without sons or daughters |
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They are bathers at the mouth of a literary delta |
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It isn't poetry |
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It's an orchestration, orchestration of their own demise |
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And you'll call me a bigot, or a dog in the manger |
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But I've seen them in the commons with their kerchiefs and tattoos |
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And a bunch of those together |
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Can only do the Devil's work, and it's the Devil's work they do |