Start Your Razors

Razor, roses, Rachmaninoff…
nobody gets enough, ‘cept
those what knows enough’s
enough.

Roses, love on a razor’s edge,
everywhere, a Field of Penises,
Rachmaninoff never had a chance.

Rachmaninoff, the old tell, love’s
razor…with a name like that,
who needs roses?

Razor, the drop of rose blood
on Rachmaninoff’s manuscript…
someone’s going to pay for this.