Odd to an Intimation of NonMortality.

Keep the measure of the madness so distinct to set me free
and the harlot of master is the one for you and me.
She's beatic and full measure, so delicious for the feign,
that she's come to be the master of the dickless and the cain.
It's immortal to be happy on the moors and in a heath,
as a kid came running to me, I think his name was Keith.
He was plump as yorkshir pudding, not delicious but he'll do
cuz I lost my means to make it sans a thousand pots of pooh.
He'll be meaner as I make him
dance a dance of fance and frill
He'll be kinder when I kill him,
but I think he'll catch a chill.
Don't berate me, I'm immortal
on the breezes of the south
and the south that came to chill you was the breathing of my mouth.
Ha, just kidding I can't breath you, I've got nothing in my mouth
But i thought I'd make a monkey of the poor delicious louts.
So I came to say you something:
So much faster than the south,
So much silkier without it,
when there's nothing else in doubt.
Keep it real,
for the master,
its the keel on the ship.
It's been waiting ever faster
on the heal of my tip.
its Subina on my rapture
it's Subina on my mouth
so I'll keep the mass to keep you
on the keel through the drouth.
sempiternal, all engulfing,
on the summer month of may
I've waiting Long to hate you
so come out dear and play.
We'll play dear on the roses like the Thelemites of old
and the cross shall come to bear us through the tempests of the cold.
It's alright dear it's the future here to comfort us in heat
and we'll lay us down upon her after summer months of meat.
Keep me with you I can't save me,
I've got too much fucking gold,
I'll be waiting warm upon you when the torrent tales are told,
I'll be bearded old and weary on the summer times to scold
all the children that can't worship
cuz their parents are too cold.
It's the tragic and forgetful that I've come to set them free,
It's their majesty of magic
that spells happiness for me.
I've been waiting in Subina,
on the shore of my release,
on the border, come to fill me
on the shore of Ingle Lees.
It's this Island,
I can't stand it,
I'm no longer one of them,
I can see the warmth upon them
and I Puke me at the stem.
I can't take it, I don't want to
I'd be happier in jail,
so I'll keep my sense to free you
just before you post my bail.

I shall have you
I shall see you
On the summer of my mouth,
through the flirting fog of winter
and the northness of the south.
My Gitana,
my saliya,
More delicious than my love
I have come to see the torments
on my god forsaken dove.