
by Mike Steeden
Conjure me a social leper
Conjure me an ice cold beer
Conjure me a starlit night
And perhaps a romantic gondolier
Venice, it was Venice
Where my sanity was lost
Fell in love with an actress
With a heart as cold as frost
Blanche the name she went by
So sweet when I had money
So cruel when she had taken me
For my good fortunes ‘milk and honey’
Blanche is with another now
Another fool like me
She’ll seduce him for his fortune
Leave him broke yet never free
Still that remains the poor man’s fate
It’s not my business anyway
I am just her discarded quarry
He is now her well-oiled prey
A gondolier, a starlit night
Yes I recall it now
The worse for beer, a social leper
I committed suicide in the Grand Canal
What Blanche does not know though
Is that upon each starlit night
My spirit visits her boudoir
And my God I give her a fright
Although a little rude of me
I wait until she’s undressed
And by way of a ghostly wolf whistle
My icy presence doth caress
The finest pair of boobs
Seen outside of an erotic dream
I take delight in frightening her
And the actress is not acting when she screams!
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