Bangalore

Spit the wicked tender tounge, inside outside, under young.
Lies refurbished all my pain, adu adu, again again.
Across some waters made by men, rode on bike my heart again,
Chasing down the midnight fog, i clipsed my sip an swallowed hard.
'Las my friend thy entered night, my 'fered cavern of dwell delight.
So scored was she it mattered not, the insect prince doe prance and flont.
I spoke, begave in thirteen tounges, 'le mistress donte did follow none,
sept' i whome gave a fingered say, than lingered in from doth till stay.
Ay my sigh, nor low nor high, nor did i cry, when they passed by, i'm sure My father,
tied loose in His heavens, had nothing more to say than "Amen"
A;as it was not what i thought, yet thinking goes out when your bought, and who are you to say your free, when your a sinner just like me.


^)