I like us now,
I like where we are;
I like, too, what we are;
Yet more than before,
And more still to follow!
As all twos implore
To roar, spit, swallow,
Grow and never try to follow
Ones again, for there’s no room for ones!
Happy for us, not for me,
Left with insecurity,
Dreaming grand and fabulous
Dilemmas, drinking gunk and goblets of letters,
Greasing your picture to fit in my throat,
(Choking is better than fetching your coat,
If you ask me, but then again, don’t,
I couldn’t speak well with this lump in my throat)
As for the rest of the world,
We’ll see, we’ll see just how much they give
From their unbroken charity
Of love, unspoken,
Holy, sacred dove society,
Come blesseth me! Release me to the skies above!
Or join us! Take our happy hands and coin us
What that you can stand to coin us,
Coin us ducats, shy and locked to literary
Locks of golden hair, so bare and so forested,
The porridge did what dad forgot;
To parent it! The silly frog,
OH! Great coining society,
Coin us but this;
One shy of three
Nothing for to worry there,
Until the fours demand my care,
The fours, if I were man of cloth
I’d point the finger at the cross
And see it pointing back at me,
(I’m hung up on the mantelpiece)
The father, son, the holy fraud and I
(the sound of none's applaud)
There’s nothing holy of the fours,
All are welcome, saints and whores!
The four corners of the earth!
The four horsemen! Horses too!
The fourth amendment! Of july!
Four get me nots! Four goodness sake!
Four, five, six, seven and eight!
I’m happy four us.
I’ve said it three times,
We’re two of a kind,
There’s only one us!