Hefner 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 collar bone 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 for a
miscarried child,
And a small boy who cries and cries and cries and cries
and cries.
I see these sights with the sleepiest eyes and a heart so
contentedly wise and
tired,
And now I bathe in the light of the most beautiful angel
this side of the sun.
