Sax at My Feet

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The blues like to lay by my bed side
And they like to play sax at my feet
While take a slice of the living
And feed them from my Christmas Tree

I find you lying in ecstasy
Alone with my gun in your hand
Belief is a mere mortals pleasure
The sole purpose for such a brand

My hero write prose for the mortals
As I write a rhyme for your heart
Still there aren’t enough of us living
To blaspheme that kind of art

You might not know quite what I’m saying
You might figure out from my rhyme
That the dragons of which you are slaying
Have sex here in 3/4 time

The dilettante lies in the gutter and
Still I can’t offer you clues
So I spread you like melted butter
In battles the heroines chose

Blinded by loves eager madness
I find you alone in your dreams
Spread out like a warm breakfast
Feeding me peaches and cream

So refusal attracts like a magnet
The bitter refute of your crimes
Below me I find that your willing
To take me in 3/4 time (alone in your mind)