Long floods of traffic and of sighs,
That fill the city and the sky;
And thro' the floods the road runs by
Towards a place called Body Shop;
And up and down the people go,
Sniffing at the window show,
A sweet perfume of mango:
The body butter pot.
That fill the city and the sky;
And thro' the floods the road runs by
Towards a place called Body Shop;
And up and down the people go,
Sniffing at the window show,
A sweet perfume of mango:
The body butter pot.
Men are transfixed, women quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the scent that is delivered
From the pot, along the river
Flowing down to Body Shop.
Smeared on bodies after showers,
An aroma, mango flowers,
That releases untold powers:
The body butter pot.
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the scent that is delivered
From the pot, along the river
Flowing down to Body Shop.
Smeared on bodies after showers,
An aroma, mango flowers,
That releases untold powers:
The body butter pot.
The gold container's deep expanse
Holds all bold seers in a trance,
Seeing all their own missed chance --
In its creamy countenance ;
Glittering from Body Shop.
Once purchased, at the close of day
They loose their clothes, and down they lay;
The unctuous balm carries them away,
The body butter pot.
Alas there is a darker notion,
Hid, concealed within this lotion
Beneath perfumes, a noxious potion,
Through shallow balm the deepest ocean
As devised by Body Shop:
But who could know they’d had a hand?
Who could have foreseen what they’d planned?
The scheme that captured all the land:
The body butter plot.
Only children curbed the spell,
Their purity shields them from hell,
They alone resist the swell,
Engulphing souls into the well;
Bricked over by the Body Shop.
These innocents can nothing tell,
of the dark domain where adults dwell,
Lambs bleating, parents trapped in cells
with body butter pots.
The gaol works by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
That turns divine into decay,
And once ensnared forever stay
The victims of the Body Shop.
Kids know not what the curse may be,
But that it worketh steadily,
And that there is no chance to flee
The body butter pot.
For weeks and weeks the blight did bloom
And every grown up did consume,
Locked away as if entombed,
Deep inside their private rooms
All because of Body Shop.
The youths of town, they were perplexed,
Long days passed, left them unchecked,
Motherhood replaced by sect
The body butter plot.
From chaos came an answered plea,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy
From whence came Peter Doherty
As he rode down to Body Shop:
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, burning bright,
O’er body butter pot.
He sprinted fast around the bend
The only one who could defend
The blameless bleaters, who could mend;
to machinations bring an end
as he flew down to Body Shop.
From his lips poured forth a song
that called attention to the throng
began to recall right and wrong
from body butter plot
Doherty’s hymn, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till all blood was frozen slowly,
And all eyes awakened wholly,
To evil deeds of Body Shop.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The plastic crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is broken!" children cried
as coppers closed the body butter shop.
Holds all bold seers in a trance,
Seeing all their own missed chance --
In its creamy countenance ;
Glittering from Body Shop.
Once purchased, at the close of day
They loose their clothes, and down they lay;
The unctuous balm carries them away,
The body butter pot.
Alas there is a darker notion,
Hid, concealed within this lotion
Beneath perfumes, a noxious potion,
Through shallow balm the deepest ocean
As devised by Body Shop:
But who could know they’d had a hand?
Who could have foreseen what they’d planned?
The scheme that captured all the land:
The body butter plot.
Only children curbed the spell,
Their purity shields them from hell,
They alone resist the swell,
Engulphing souls into the well;
Bricked over by the Body Shop.
These innocents can nothing tell,
of the dark domain where adults dwell,
Lambs bleating, parents trapped in cells
with body butter pots.
The gaol works by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
That turns divine into decay,
And once ensnared forever stay
The victims of the Body Shop.
Kids know not what the curse may be,
But that it worketh steadily,
And that there is no chance to flee
The body butter pot.
For weeks and weeks the blight did bloom
And every grown up did consume,
Locked away as if entombed,
Deep inside their private rooms
All because of Body Shop.
The youths of town, they were perplexed,
Long days passed, left them unchecked,
Motherhood replaced by sect
The body butter plot.
From chaos came an answered plea,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy
From whence came Peter Doherty
As he rode down to Body Shop:
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, burning bright,
O’er body butter pot.
He sprinted fast around the bend
The only one who could defend
The blameless bleaters, who could mend;
to machinations bring an end
as he flew down to Body Shop.
From his lips poured forth a song
that called attention to the throng
began to recall right and wrong
from body butter plot
Doherty’s hymn, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till all blood was frozen slowly,
And all eyes awakened wholly,
To evil deeds of Body Shop.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The plastic crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is broken!" children cried
as coppers closed the body butter shop.
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