Homeless Love

Come into my refrigerator box
And munch on my day-old bread.
I'll wash out my trench coat and woman's socks. 
I'll put lettuce heads under your head.

We'll sit in the subway and beg for change. 
I'll look helpless, insane, yet not lazy.
I'll limp a little and you'll look strange. 
Then we'll buy Gypsy Rose and get crazy.

I'll smell like an outhouse and you will too.
We'll clear out a car on the train.
I've got a fragrance like pigs in a zoo;
Your fragrance could pickle one's brain.

We'll have little kids in a Welfare hotel. 
We'll nestle in rat dung and piss.
We'll make love in a mixture of roach juice and hell.
The suburbs were never like this.