Drip drip, the cream falls on my lip.
by Herbert Nehrlich
Grunt grunt, it's dark inside the brunt.
Push, push, wild shadows near the tush.
Squeeze, squeeze, alveoli now wheeze.
Flood, flood, it feels like pleasant mud.
Numb gum, it's Sirens when we come.
Sink, sink, we'll end up in the drink.