Memo From Turner

Didnt I see you down in San Antone on a hot and dusty night
We were eating eggs in Sammys when the black man drew his knife
Then you drowned that Jew in Rampton as he washed his sleeveless shirt
You know that Spanish-speaking gentlemen, the one we all call Kurt
I remember you in Hemlock Road in 1956
You were a faggy little leather boy with a smaller piece of stick
You were a lashing, smashing hunk of man, your sweat shines sweet and strong
Your organs working perfectly but theres a part thats not screwed on
Were you at the coke convention back in 1965
Youre the misbred grey executive Ive seen heavily advertised
Youre the great gray man whose daughter licks policemens buttons clean
Youre the man who squats behind the man who works the soft machine
Come now, gentleman, there must be some mistake
How forgetful Im becoming now you fixed your buisness straight
When the old men do the fighting and the young men all look on
And the young girls eat their mothers meat from tubes of plasticon
Be wary of these, my gentle friends, of all the skin you breed
They have that tasty habit, they eat the hands that bleed
So remember who you say you are but keep your noses clean
Boys will be boys who play with toys so be strong with your beast
Oh, Rosie dear, dont you think its queer so stop me if you please
The baby is dead, my lady said, you gentlemen, why, you all work for me
Come now, gentleman, your love is all I crave
Youll still be in the circus when Im laughing in my grave