Really don't mind if you sit this one out.
My words but a whisper -- your deafness a shout.
I may make you feel but I can't make you think.
Your sperms in the gutter -- your loves in the sink.
So you ride yourselves over the fields and
You make all your animal deals and
Your wise men don't know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
And the sand-castle virtues are all swept away in
The tidal destruction
The moral melee.