She says:
lets speak in hexadecimal.
So we tango like a Fibonacci
and count from naught to nine.
All at twenty o’clock in the morning.
I say:
throw me a Manchester band.
And we pogo along
to IQ Zero.
All at twenty o’clock in the morning.
He says:
Keep the noise down I’m trying to sleep.
So we mime a pirouette
to the sounds of silence.
All at twenty o’clock in the morning.
God says:
All this scratching is making me itch.
So we stop what we’re doing
and we get down on our knees.
All at twenty o’clock in the morning.
Leave a Reply