Kisses To The Crying Cooks
Robert Pollard
Onion lady blows her precious prose
And so it goes
Kisses to the crying cooks
Their bigs in books
With baited hooks
Chorus: And days away from your army
And spend with whimsy kings and slaves
A girl of God becomes a cash flower
A catalog of gardens and graves
Travellers diagram
For where I am
From where I am
Director of visional codes and overloads
It all explodes
Chorus