There are things that I think and write that I know I should be ashamed of and that I ought to not mutter but I do, and I don’t feel a great deal of shame at all, which in turns makes me again think that I ought to be ashamed of myself and then I’m not and then…well you get the idea. This one is about having relations with homeless people and that’s disgusting I know. Thinking it that is, not homeless people. Or homeless people having sex. They’re quite entitled to do whatever they want. Just because you sleep in a box in an underpass does not mean that you cant enjoy a Dutch reverse wheelbarrow with someone you just shared a bottle of floor cleaner with.
I’m sorry. I will go make a donation to a homeless charity once I press send. Feel free to read or listen to it or maybe just give it a miss.
There’s a bloke called Marcel Has a story to tell
As he has a quite dark fascination
See for tramps he gets hot and he’s ready to trot
With the down and out down at the station
Loves the way that they smell Oh dear twisted Marcel
He just can’t get enough all the while
Kindly gives a few bucks when theyre down on their luck
Sits and hangs out with them with a smile
He enjoys carnal sins round the back of the bins
Hobo loving he can’t get his fill
He’s the local wild funster getting hot in a dumpster
Black toothed cavernous mouth – oh the thrill
Dirty fingers hair matted they’re the cure for his flacid
Manhood he’s so proud and excited
A homeless three way really did make his day
and he heads home satisfied and excited.
