Cat's eyesnCircle the globe on protruding white stalksnDancers with green trays, basketsnSnakes slither and probenA bridge of dog sizenA bench, a chairnShe's so fine that naked lady of minenSlight turn in reposenThe lings out on the moannThe churbs so smallnA chorus of fogs step on empty streetsnOf forest greens, lanesnnWe all walk in the straight linenNice and tightnWe all walk in a straight linenNice and tightnnElvis bleeds from the eyesnMadonnas light up the skiesnKneel before the potatonAnd kiss the forehand of SivanSunset and VinennWalk in the straight linenWith my neonnMy neonnWalk in the straight linenNice and tightnnJesus t-shirtsnAirport chieftainsnBlow-dried smilesnNothing is sacrednNo one is safenWhispers of secrets walknThrough these streets where my lady liesnSacrednessnnWalkin' with my neonnNeonnWalkin the straight linenNice and TightnnHuman chases at their Jesse HelmsnGuiding the gnomes andnTheir clone children, the king's dominionnHere, kitty, kittynHere, kitty, kittynnWith my neon