Blonde Chicken


I knew Dick pretty good
I knew his strengths there
In bed, but I knew his
Crummy weaknesses too

He couldn’t control himself—
Losing all of his common sense
Needing to get it off with chicks
Especially the young chickens

With no dough to show for—
Dick’s whole fucked-up scheme
He’d dreamed up because of
Crazy Floyd Welles’ lies


So it wasn’t in cold blood—

Like Truman Capote called it
It was just pure unadulterated
Faggoty Green Jealousy

All just to impress Hickcock—
How much I really loved him
And wanted to impress him
With my Thuggish Killer ways

It wasn’t cold-blooded at all—
It wasn’t frustration of getting
No dough or anything like that
It was just a Lover’s Jealousy

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