When I first saw your gallery
I liked the ones of ladies 
Then you began to hang up me 
You studied to portray me 
In ice and greens 
And old blue jeans 
And naked in the roses 
Then you got into funny scenes 
That all your work discloses 

"Lady, don't love me now I am dead 
I am a saint, turn down your bed 
I have no heart," that's what you said 
You said, "I can be [bad word] 
But let me be gentle with you" 

Somewhere in a magazine 
I found a page about you 
I see that now it's Josephine 
Who cannot be without you 
I keep your house in fit repair 
I dust the portraits daily 
Your [bad word] here from everywhere 
The writing looks like ladies' 

"Lady, please love me now, I am dead 
I am a saint, turn down your bed 
I have no heart," that's what you said 
You said, "I can be [bad word] 
But let me be gentle with you" 

I gave you all my pretty years 
Then we began to weather 
And I was left to winter here 
While you went west for pleasure 
And now you're flying back this way
Like some lost homing pigeon 
They've monitored your brain, you say 
And changed you with religion 

"Lady, please love me now I was dead 
I am no saint, turn down your bed 
Lady, have you no heart," that's what you said 
Well, I can be [bad word] But let me be gentle with you 

When I first saw your gallery 
I liked the ones of ladies 
But now their faces follow me 
And all their eyes look shady

© 1969; Siquomb [bad word]