Queen • 3

I wish I could crawl into myself and roll away

I await the true touching of the Messianic Age when love and knowledge replace obscene curiosity

Getting older Keep thinking I havn't begun Jesus half a life and I havn't begun

Getting bigger around the middle The thing grows in the middle of the middle ignorant of my repulsion

She thought in the warm tub surrounding her in white tinny material which peels which is rough

Can see why the Greeks dug tubs

The green round, rubber plug spreads reflexion speckled in hot and cold chrome

"Songs for the King's Supper" imported musical delicacies after seven proper to a warm tub