May God Protect Your Home

I'm tired of boys

Who fight with girls

And stain their sheets

And girls who tell

Stories of boys

And graze their knees

And where did you get?

To smell so sweet?

Is that sweetness for me?

And where did I find?

These eyes that I found?

They will surely let me down

And your hair stops short of a line which starts at your neck

And flows over your collarbone down to your breast

Where my hand lies ever so gently

And my hand starts to move down your stomach

And in between those thighs

To a soft warm place I call home

And may god protect your home

There's a lady who cries

And builds a shrine

To her miscarried child

And a small boy who cries

And cries and cries

And cries and cries

I see these sights

Through the sleepiest eyes

And a heart so contentedly wise and tired

And now I bathe in the light

Of the most beautiful heavenly angel

This side of the sun

And your hair stops short of a line which starts at your neck

And flows over your collarbone down to your breast

Where my hand lies ever so gently

And my hand starts to move down your stomach

And in between those thighs

To a soft warm place I call home

And may god protect your home