My Muse

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My Muse,
Yea, She Rides Shotgun.
 Not Offering Penny's Worth of Smoke
Nor A Thimbles Full Of Drink
Inconsiderate Of The Time or Place
That Bitch She Rides

She Climbs Up, 
From The Back Seat Like A Stalker After Midnight.
Her Dagger In My Throat
Her 45 At My Temple
Persistent, That Bitch She Rides.
 
My Muse
She Rides Shot Gun

At Times...
That Bitch
Precocious and Innocent.
How She Approaches?
In The Sparkle Of A Single Horned Horse

A Duet With The Devil
My Muse
Knows She's My Addiction
My Affliction For Words of Nonsense and Rhyme

I Try To Hide In The Oblivious Inadequate Guise Of A Human, But...

That Bitch She Finds Me

My Muse
That Bitch She Rides

~Dannie~

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