Etched to perfection by natures tender brush, fierce periods and fragrance

The thrusters are coming, galloping on the horizon of your dreams

They know you are ready

they are red hot and greased with expectation

whip the horse

whip the horse

The siren song of night is calling you to

Cast your flowers to the wind

The thrusters are coming, wild eyed, red hot and greased

Whip the horse

Whip the horse

Mothers pleas and exhortation cower in the wet grass

How can I save you when I couldn’t save myself

The thrusters are coming with moist lips and massive thighs

Whip the horse

Whip the horse.

Till all is forlorn ,plucked and deflowered

By dint of driven horses