ON SPIRITS, SAINTS AND SPITTOONS If you want to love me but find yourself unable If that is buried deep within you about me First of all don’t put a setting for me at the table And for Christ’s sake, just take back the key This whole palace is your’s and your’s alone Bedrooms with pink sheets wAND a comforter to match And when I’m gone and you know it’s me don’t pick up the phone Lock the windows, lock the door, and double check the latch I see love in your eyes but surrender in your voice It seems you’ve succumbed to a wish you hold in your heart I must admit, knowing myself as I do you are given very little choice Just make certain to do all the things you need to do whenever I depart I’m a spirit of spittoons and a Saint of outhouses and such While you’ve two cars, one you don’t drive, and are oh so very rich I remember the first time you said ‘I need your gentle touch’ But now I can opine that you’re father’s a coward because he takes bulls**t from your mother, the bi**h © 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~