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Red Woman's Revenge

from Red Woman's Revenge by The Good Hard

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lyrics

she climbs the ladder’s shadow
to a greener branch of man,
prepares him in her pueblo
then drops him on japan.

she is luv left in the lurch
so shared it’s barely there;
a burning animate church
says “enter me if u care.”

so doled into the runnel
of mussy implantation,
via his jugular funnel,
she owns insemination.

u may wish to sire
as music soothes the battled breast,
but weft of bygone shivers,
she gives no ravage rest.

she is the only natural source
of careful, carefree choice,
her stewardship a gentle force
that teaches points to moist.

engage her in yr stakings,
leave whim to her cognitions,
else she drag u, gaping,
down her wild preconditions.

wen ya gonna jump off that grouchy clown
n cell mate yr counterpart,
not just slump round the slouch pump
administrating a greed frown,
cartelling words like duty-free shut-eye
into the fuck-it bucket,
like whoever tries to pull
full from the well of ramify
just needs more death-knell zinfandel?

wow! such a large intestine!
wow! such reckless lacustration!
wow! such lame lamentation!
wow! such happy livestock chin-chin!

o dude, u make her drool
o how u make her drool
o dude, u make her drool
u make her drool u into the been pool

she soaks it up wen she’s washt away,
between the crests her smile beams,
yr frozen tongue’s her nesting dream,
swaddling u wer the elder sway.

let her be yr dirt-lord tonite,
she’ll ghost-rite yr bored hurt
into an undeveloped coast
wer u’ll wallow in the thinkhole
of her helpmeet hollow,
a sweet daddle-clad man vole
with the sad rattl in his showy slink,
as she winds u up
in wut the urth adorz,
floors n floorz of nethermind
worth whole wars, til u
strut like harlemite eels,
gnarled loose as the court of alleles,
fly as a trike mob, turnin
the burnin to lurnin bout
a first-hand throb on the offtrack,
cross-barred luvrs, cumback curst,
skies in the hard of yr land.

she’s all ears for eyes
that happen to be
she’s all ears for eyes
that happen to be
she’s all ears for eyes
that happen to be on hers.

o wut a beautiful mad.

not a turf but she weaves the seed,
upturns the pelf in her braidling prime,
restints to drupe luxurious chyme,
her coil’d swoon the follow we’d.

wut brunts the gloze her sward abasks,
on timrous edge she gulshes most,
her iric flung a roving host,
o freeing glean of heavy tasks.

to lift her lid
u gotta get amid,
shake navels with the
free-wrought genera,
scout watertable synonym lib,
betaking of in, outset
guarana squatter anon, the thole pone
breth is for, all about or,
to multirole zones
thrall-gyved,
the occult snout
hot on yr deth bok,
viz gone-taught,
so may u, splanish
as drip splat on
dark harp,
unravalanchian, ling’ring
like dew steam off
hark scarp,
in swish’s grip, fray fro,
be stanchion like calve has,

then shall her cliff dwelling
in know secrets canyon
render outlet-rich yr delving day.

ee be da bee bee da gobba da ba.

credits

from Red Woman's Revenge, released March 15, 2016

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The Good Hard

The Good Hard is playwright, poet, and musician Kirk Wood Bromley's band featuring players and producers in NYC and Arizona. Email the "Contact The Good Hard" link below if you wanna talk.

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