Atom Juggler - Wallace Vanborn

Brawlers gave their votes

And all that had become their souls

For a sip of mothers cold and ancient wrist

Pitbulls came and went

And wet themselves before they spent

The extra timing that it took to move their will

You’re the kind of woman I would love to get my hands onto

You’re the kind of woman I would love to get my hands onto

You’re the kind of woman, Rebecca, I’d love to plough

You’re the kind of woman, Rebecca, I’d love to plough

There’s a valiant wall

They built up right before the war

Of extra graciously pretending not to sleep

Pour the loving down

Of those preliminary notions

Of a dog inhaling what he saw and reeks

You’re the kind of woman I would love to get my hands onto

You’re the kind of woman I would love to get my hands onto

You’re the kind of woman, Rebecca, I’d love to plough

You’re the kind of woman, Rebecca, I’d love to plough