Treacle Tin

Oh, sunken
Within
The treacle tin
Sickly and swell'd
In this blubbing
Lull
I am held
A thespian
in the throes
Of this thick black
Sticky roll
Preserved
In the plot
A calamitous clot
Oh, the miasma
Of this cheap
Melodrama
The soap
For which I grope
I seem to remember
Yeah, I
Seem to
remember
Posing in a mirror without terror or a tut
Giddy with the gluttony and supple in his strut
By now the bough
Of me backbone
Will have buckled
Will have stooped
So I can't remove
The tin from the shelf
So I
Lay down my empty self
It were lovely
Oh being happy.
Oh, sunken
Within
The treacle tin
Sickly and swell'd
In this blubbing
Lull
I am held
Oh the treacle's
A-rubbin' a-dubbin'
On me skin
Stops the teasing getting in
Oh the treacle
tin's my hen, is my glam
makes my trusty bed burn
So I won't wake
To no wake
I seem to remember
Yeah, I
Seem to
remember
Posing in a mirror without terror or a tut
Giddy with the gluttony and supple in his strut
By now the bough
Of me backbone
Will have buckled
Will have stooped
So I can't remove
The tin from the shelf
So I just
Lay down my empty self
It were lovely
Oh being happy.
By now the bough
Of me backbone
Will have buckled
Will have stooped
So I can't remove
The tin from the shelf.