There was an old whore from the Azores Whose xxxx was all covered in big sores The Dogs in the street lapped up the green meat That hung in festoons from her drawers.
" a sparkle was in his eye, but his life was in his hands . and late at night when the people where gone ,he used to pickup my guitar,and sing a song in a shaky voice that that was real as the night was long"
thats nice 
