| I saw where he kept it quite by accident
|
| In a secret compartment
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| Behind a framed navel chart
|
| If I bide my time until the
|
| Whole house falls silent
|
| Have night hide my face if not
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| The terrible beat of my wanton
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| Indiscreet human heart
|
| Fierce echo the halls as the four chambers
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| Pound. |
| Hard to believe the whole city
|
| Won’t wake with that sound
|
| Nothing in nature can ever compare to this
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| Empyreal spiral of opaline gold
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| Impossible still that my freemason uncle
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| Somehow had this hidden away
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| But its there and I must have a look
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| At least now that I know
|
| Letting the blue velvet gently unfold
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| Revealing a sparkling unicorn’s horn
|
| Ah my body aches with the fever to touch
|
| Knowing full well that to touch
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| On the surface is never enough
|
| Finding a corner where the oak-panelled
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| Wall meets the rococo desk
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| Bracing the horn which burns and
|
| Chills me equally and with leverage now
|
| Pressed through my breast
|
| How serene a heart cleft! |