| Nearly Old Friends |
|---|
| Disgusting speed |
| For every word a dirty deed |
| And so they say |
| Take a week or month |
| But you need more than a day |
| For it to go away |
| But it couldn’t be |
| What it never was |
| No war was waged |
| A year in silence |
| No penance paid |
| With a dirty tongue |
| Something wicked’s bound |
| To this way come |
| Then we’ll see |
| If we both have to crawl from the bottom |
| It’s there we meet |
| Eye to eye and bent on some bedlam |
| The coast was clear |
| Turned out to be a cynic’s year |
| With a dirty tongue |
| Something wicked’s bound |
| To this way come |
