Galaxy

Withered hands with seedless teeth besides

Cackle perverse chimes towards stroppy
Madams just beyond the marbled arch
Oh he savours the draining seconds
But he’s minutes away
                                  from
                                        funeral
                                              Sympathy

Oh beware of too many happy endings
As they’ll only rot your teeth
If Tuesday’s the day of the bride’s bouquet
Then Thursday’s the night of the funeral wreath

Well we’re ecstatic to see you
But I can’t say not surprised
Please mind the storm in your coffee cup
That Mary-Anne has disguised
But I wouldn’t worry none too much
Lightning never strikes twice
                                            in
                                              the
                                                 same
                                                    place

So you can leave here with your head held high
Without a touch of disgrace

Oh beware of too many happy endings

As they’ll only rot your teeth

If Tuesday’s the day of the bride’s bouquet

Then Thursday’s the night of the funeral wreath