There’s this cutest of all huts.
Let me describe a 0.25 ml glass in front of me
right now:
(It’s filled half way. Just saying. Not saying what
with.)
It’s got horizontal stripes that are
ordered in vertical columns.
In the columns there
are diamonds, as in the card suit.
From the bottom up:
Red. Orange. Yellow.
Sunrise.
I bought it 10 yards up from the hut.
(Though I only know the metric system, I’m afraid.)
And that’s all you need to know.
Do you get it?
I want to buy it.
I bought the glass. I got it for a fair price of £0.5
Next I should buy the hut.
Only I haven’t got enough cash in my pocket now.
Can I reserve it and come back for it later?
Ray, the estate agent said no.
When I worked in the charity shop I always reserved
things.
Without telling the superior.
He was shady – as they are.
As they come – in all shades.
Worked hard for them "Aviators"
Ray Bans all reservations but what do I care?
If you really really want something you should have
it. Why not?
The wanting so hard is a lot of effort.
It should be rewarded.
That’s what I think.
In a meritocracy, that is.
A quarter deposit. Well Well Well.
25%
That’s a hell of of a cut.
(I got from drinking out of a broken glass. That's why
I had to buy a new one, see.)
Cut the deck.
Pokerface.
Hearts.
My "lip" bleeds.
Have a heart.
Become a member of the British Heart Foundation.
Cut the decking, so we can put a skylight in.
So I can look up 'n make use of my quarter,
Catholicism.
So I can look up 'n pray for Ray and all "mankind" to be illuminated, too.
A Men
And Women all over should have their little huts,
not connected to the gas, necessarily,
ideally connected to the sewage system
and with a skylight.
not connected to the gas, necessarily,
ideally connected to the sewage system
and with a skylight.
That’s very important.