theres a prickly sea left rubbing to the side of me,
it's smells like oil and grease and bubbles up my nasals,
the bubbles puncture on the rims of my eye, and a deep
dark rash reveals itself round a half closed, sweating pupil.
Swat that damp lap, do me round, lick me on, lick me dry,
she can rid the clogged and nasty, and sail with it away,
but when the coat comes on, and the door falls closed,
reality comes to play.