Memo From Turner

Didn't I see you down in San Antone on a hot and dusty night?
You were eating eggs in Sammy's, when the black man there drew his knife
Aw, you drowned that Jew in Rampton, as he washed his sleeveless shirt
You know that Spanish-speaking gentleman, the one that we all call Kurt

Come now, gentlemen, I know there's some mistake
How forgetful I'm becoming, now you fixed your business straight

I remember you in Hemlock Road in 1956
You're a faggy little leather boy with a smaller piece of stick
Well, you're a lashin', smashin', hunk of man
Your sweat shines sweet an' strong
Your organ's working perfectly, but there's a part that's not screwed on

Weren't you at the Coke convention back in 1965
You're the misbred, grey executive I've seen heavily advertised
You're that great, gray man whose daughter licks policemen's buttons clean
You're the man who squats behind the man who works the soft machine

Come now, gentlemen, your love is all I crave
You'll still be in the circus when I'm laughin', laughin' in my grave

When the old men do the fighting and the young men all look on
And the young girls eat their mother's meat from tubes of plasticon
Be wary, please, my gentle friends, of all the skins you breed
They have a tasty habit, they eat the hands that bleed

So, remember who you say you are and keep your noses clean
Boys will be boys and play with toys so be strong with your beast
Oh Rosie dear, don'tcha think it's queer so stop me if you please
"The baby's dead," my lady said
You gentlemen, why, you all work for me

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