Restless, I walked to the shore
 And picked a place of peace
 I found no relief 
 In satin sheets
 Or the [bad word] of police

 sovereign god 
 Raised up an arm
 And gave me clever hands
 With these 
 I molded irate pleas
 For an [bad word] band.

 Call me stately, lately don't
 I follow, not forsee
 Bled of all my backwards ropes
 Untangled from [bad word] 

 Peas in a pod 
 May laugh and trod
 On morals mighty or weak
 Plastered in poems 
 Of holy unknowns
 I'm whispered 
 On slogan-filled streets