Slaves of Love

A rainbow rules more as living folds
lease in to the crease of the upholsteries
In the cloistery the rose
window bending afternoon light
Share space fair face? Spare change?

Drift down manna moonlight
Conjure you I in rooms sans sight
Return third eye while we listen
as your beams on the southern oceans glisten

Call him Bombasticus Humus?
He's way too clever for that
He went seven rounds in Las Vegas
"Till his opponent was lying flat

Call him Perpetualis Puerus?
Aye, tis a little closer to the score
He's got friends in all the magazine
But that doesn't mean he's a whore

They call him Booker
Bringer of the truth
A man alone- Booker
The sign of youth
is on his brow
A small tattoo
shaped like a cow

You don't know why
You don't know how
But he's your master
He's your master
He's your master now

You see he's just another average fella
Who did right and worked hard
With a helicopter umbrella
Sitting there in the back yard

A dedicated servant of the people
Who owe their lives and safety to him
Who crossed the mighty red river
and doesn't even know how to swim

With executive secretary
Why she's just turned sixteen
He like's things to be ship shape
He like's a clean machine

You would not think to look at her
She'd have any hold on him
Oh, I suppose a pretty enough face
But her nose is a little thin

And actually, to tell the truth
She likes to flirt and tease
Shorthand and dictation are
not exactly her specialties

And Booker he likes to stand tall
and beg your pardon, if you please
he never stands quite so tall
as when she's on her knees

They call him Booker
Bringer of the truth
A man alone- Booker
The sign of youth
is on his brow
A small tattoo
shaped like a cow

You don't know why
You don't know how
But he's your master
He's your master
He's your master now

And what of Mrs. Booker,
who once was such a looker?
Aristocratic, high waisted,
it seems she has tasted
from the punch once a little too often,
her features have begun to soften
into a blur

And her finer features are not
as pronounced as they once were
Age has begun to do that funny thing
it does to everyone to her

To everyone that is except
Charles Winston Booker

It's said he dyes his hair
and has had a nip and tuck here and there
For while for the ordinary man spring may have sprung
They whom the Gods love grow not old but young

And Mrs Booker agrees to
dedicate herself to charities
Her magnificent profile
in all the bibles of modern style
where she gives lectures about
self sacrifice and how each one must pay
the price of success

She's an object of admiration
not the beneficiary of sympathy
To prove what I mean she's got her
own episode of reality TV

I suppose it will get acceptable ratings

The love secrets ofthe stars
Once were theirs and now are ours
Among the cognotsi it's well perfectly understood
To protect the innocent children and for the public good

They call him Booker
Bringer of the truth
A man alone- Booker
The sign of youth
is on his brow
A small tattoo
shaped like a cow

You don't know why
You don't know how
But he's your master
He's your master
He's your master now

All went well untill that fatefull day
His teen angel turned to him and she did ssy
"I'm tired of being hidden from the eyes of the town
If I am really your queen then I must wear the crown"

Slaves of Love,, Slaves of Love
Even the fairest turtle dove
can be made into a slave of love

She's his Snooky ookey
He's her Bookie wookie
and he'd do anything in the world for her
but he never realized it would come to murder

"You have big men who do little things liks this"
She said to the fat man as she gave him a kiss

"Baby please, please," he said "Baby can't you wait?
In a month I'm going to be Secretary of State

She's his Snooky ookey
He's her Bookie wookie
but terrible is the wrath of a teenager scorned
the day had come of which his friends had often warned

Slaves of Love,, Slaves of Love
Even the fairest turtle dove
can be made into a slave of love

"My Love" said he "Angel divine
My world would end were not thou mine "
"Sure C,W.", she said "And I love you"
and the sad thing is her words were true

For she thought herself a princess
transported to a fairy tale
the Fancy flat, the expensive clothes
these are things that rarely fail

Champagne and cocaine
They say are the keys to a woman's heart
But for a guy like C.W. Booker
they are only the start

Then come the doormen and the footmen
Then the mad evenings at the opera
Not that the girl cares a whit about music
but she loves the wealth, glitter and spendor

Sweet words whispered in the limo
About who cares since it's only money
But still a wise woman must lock in the deal
After all someday she'll be turning twenty

(Spoken: My friend has a chest cold.
Her chest is all swollen up.
Show the man your chest, darlin)

In the bar Booker commiserates
with his buddies Eddie and Juan
"Juan what can I do?" he shouts
"She makes me feel so young"

"A broad is abroad when aboard" said Juan
"They'll all the same if you ask me
"Set her up with a rent-a-boy
There's too many fish in the sea"

But Sir Eddie turned and said
"I have learned, much to my cost in tears and sorrow
A love once sweet, cast out on the street
once lost may return tomorrow

with a subpeona with a subpeona
and a reporter and a reporter"

And Bookers eyes did narrow
And the dark of the cheesy barroom
Fell several shades darker

While out on the street the rain fell
On the awning outside the Neverland Hotel

They call him Booker
Bringer of the truth
A man alone- Booker
The sign of youth
is on his brow
A small tattoo
shaped like a cow

You don't know why
You don't know how
But he's your master
He's your master
He's your master now

Slaves of Love,, Slaves of Love
Even the perfect turtle dove
can be made into a slave of love

Too late, too late their love learned she
and the child within her was not to be
a captain or master of industry

As perhaps a million times before
he was just a mistake by a rich mans' whore
And rags and tatoos were all he ever wore

She became a dancer in the Hollywood Hills
She tried to sell her story just to pay some bills
But the lie gives life and the truth only kills

And Booker mingles freely with the good and the great
His life story several times he's been wont to relate
For he is a man of destiny and favored by fate

For God lives up there in heaven
or so the songs are sung
And Bookers up there too
he's climbed the ladder rung by rung

and smiling his wicked smile he thinks
"Now I shall be forever young"