Dazy, Dazy, allow me to nip your bud.
I’m half crazy for th' iron in your blood.
It won’t be a longish huggin'.
I must cut short my clubbin',
'fore dawn bleeds red,
asleep in bed
in a casket snug for a stud.
Mikey, Mikey, here is your answer true.
I’m not crazed to be stuck forever with you.
I'm cloaked in silver and garlic
flesh rubbed to give you colic
‘Cuz no one pecks
upon my neck
in a casket built just for you.
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