I’ve become so familiar
With this elephant’s sphincter
Wedged and contorted
This room is my home
Leathery hide
For a pacifist bride
I can taste the paint
I can sleep standing up
The room is my cell
I know it so well
It smells like manure
The aroma of hell
The elephant tweaks
My little bones creak
The elephant’s strong
But my spine is so weak
There’s no room to breathe
In this tiny white room
That they’ve padded for me
I don’t want to be free
My elephant and I
Have made friends with doubt
My elephant and I
We have no way out.

Putrid!
Call the coroner!
But Mister
Can’t you see that she’s in love?
There’s no need for
Formaldyhde
This steed she does not
Wish to hide
She knows it’s there
She has no fear
In fact this little mental case
Lays her little pillow case
Right up on that stallion’s gut
And props her feet up on its butt
And sleeps there sound all through the night
Cuz she’s in love, Sir, lost her sight
Now just the smell to bring her ease
So leave the corpse, Sir, if you please.