Inside A Room Full Of Treasures A Black

there's a hole in my sock where my shoe always bites it

and that's got to stop or else I'll feel foolish at the sock-hop, yeah

the sacraments slouch near the garnish toupet with ceramic

my name's marcus and I'm a martian mime

well, of course I'm a mime

where do you think I got this scoop of

scottish cheese and not a brick from brown government buildings?

there's a cloud in my clock where the seconds always chide it

and that's got to stop if I'm going to ride aboard the herbivore, yeah

whose hourglass fingers look starved through the mask

my name's cassius and I've metamorphosized

into a nosy guest talking dresses made of pheasant breasts

from magazine gown gazebo and a red-sabred pompous horseman

there's a glare from my smock where a cardinal ate his shadow

and that's got to stop if I'm going to garnish an accorn souffle

the clowns kneel down and pray that

the police will go away

after first giving them back their balms

so they can swat eachother's

bearded faces once again

once again

there's an "oh my" and "my goodness" genuflecting as in battle

and that's got to stop if I'm going to convert a bouncing chan marshall