I am a good deal troubled,
With a noiseless step,
And easily disturbed.
Pell-mell into the parlour,
I shook off the lethargy.
If I make myself understood:
Drink as prop—
Locker room cancer—
Katie bar the door—
All the recent ideas conjoined.
Who I technically report to
Is fucking immaterial.It’s all fun and games
‘Til someone gets wet.