Russian Tea Cakes

Or-pha-nage fenc-es line the street

The doors are cold to all they greet

And mom-my's gone in grim defeat

To recite her passion play

While all the kid-dies spell re-pent

They read the new-est test-a-ment

It's in the mail, dis-guised as rent

And there's no one who could pay

It's all just like what Jesus said

That which is small is surely dead

Unless you drown this whine with bred

So the Devil takes his leave

The hooker's gone in slumber, splayed

This prostitute leads the parade

Maternally, she's made the grade

But the widows, still they grieve

For their lost son, who's off to war

For-sa-ken brood-mare mush-room spore

And yet they're rot-ten to the core

To let children play with forks

In-stead of draw-ing hop-scotch squares

They're snip-ing sand-dune grizz-ly bears

Sell-ing their hate, but buy-ing prayers

When a prayer just ne-ver works

If not for false mor-al-i-ty
The daugh-ter dock would drift to sea
And all the world would simp-ly be
A chill-ing-ly lone-some cage

When po-lice wives have got their fill
the piper, pied, comes with his bill
The legend legion drops the quill
To scribble out each blank page