by Perry L. Powell
Burn the midnight cow and beat around the
horn; face over fist for the bait and the bend
over backwards to close early and change
knife hands that beat the complete picture and
dangle a dead cat in front of a house
divided where you eat your own fly by
night in the red and black who knocked the nose
off the grindstone and get your arms around
gang busters (come to a hard stop) firing
on all cylinders while taking one for
the shop and thinking outside the ante. So
what have you been wiping clean, apprentice?
Pick the low hanging kimonos when at
thirty thousand feet and sell out to the
sharks when the bottom falls out of the bath;
you can scratch my back and sweeten the pot,
but it's all business and no sweat equity
can build a better business at hand for
that eight hundred pound gorilla when he
beats the street to the path to your door, babe.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment