Hermoine

You never say what's true, what you saw, in the alley without virtue, dance again to the moon, pray with some lonely whore, your head full of tunes, when your lover groans, don't say things like that for, why break her bones, only fools live like you, crying out your holy orders, making strange concoctions to brew, you sweat in furious tones, as if divined by horses, riding here like Empress Jones, tell me am a fool to leave you, you'll pay a heavy score, your face is turning blue, I walk the floor.