TOPIC: innuendo
WORD: scandinavian

ever since i saw death......

i talk to the moon
with a fork and a spoon
eating a piece of it's shine
sweetly telling my mom
i'm chomping up mars in june

and

life's short
so pardon my view
for stretching thought across scandinavian stars til it grew

i'm kneeling in an awkward pew
caught where cars and shoes
are martyring dudes
and blood's darkening martin's views
and mamas ride the col' train harlem groove
on crack pipes' tracks
right til her vocal bag pipes crack and let out awkward blues

where baby's babies begin wit innuendo,
indo, gin, gentle skin, then grins grow
sin? no, but men in low, out fast, and in slow
out fast when sea men blow then don't put out cash
when little men grow