Smells Like Happiness

Happy we are when we choose to wear the blindfold

And mark our own day with a parade and a song

In our minds our fathers have died and we realize that cities have clubs and we like

to get drunk and high from the smells we inhale from dirty wells and the mouth of a

boy who smokes cigarettes

Happiness has a smell I inhale like a drug done in a darkened hall or a bathroom

stall with a friend or a man with a hard-on

I feed my own face when I soon crave a taste of the neck of a boy who wears eau

de toilette and shaves every day and behaves well in department stores

As well, it is the smell of old cum on the rug men walk their dirty feet on and the

sweat from the chest of a man in a leather uniform

Happy are we when we choose to wear the blindfold and mark our own place with

the smell of our own