As good as, By Jiminy . C, Celestial machinery - move through your commands Goddesses of mystery so delicate and so grand, come turn me on now Turn your lamps down low now, Dolly mixture, F (oiled again!), goes like clockwork, Got a feeling something's taken hold 'Cause I'm flying by remote control No misunderstanding Before I make a landing I'll lose my mind and I'll trade my soul, Hey big spender, Hey doll, I feel the room swayin' While the band's playin', lubricous lube, Oiled up, Perquisitor Visitor, potential 101 that sits here instead, proper wind up, That is why she satisfies my soul, virtually perfect
This could have been another 101 story. But I want to post it here, and also I wanted more words than 101 – falls about – nine dots of doom (no less!), and they tip the whole shebang over the 101 cliff edge, weighing it in at a hefty 116. It’s still very short and I did have a 101 version, but it just wasn’t as good as this one ultimately, (to mine eyes), however, tis but a mere trifle (no dairy).)
Good Time Merchant
Shattered, finally home, I enter the bedroom; she raises her head; long copper curls falling over bare shoulders.
“Miss me doll?”
“Joe, you’re all I live for, where have you been? You never say.”
We fall into a tight embrace; I whisper a thousand counterfeit promises into her perfect ear;
She sighs. “One day I’ll be a rea . . . ”
She’s gone again.
I put one hand over her mouth, slip the other up the back of her dress, and slide the key into her oiled lock, turning, clicking steadily . . .
“ . . . I-I-I, Oh Joe, really you wind me up, but know just what makes me tick!”