Cannot Be Wrong

i heard of a saint who had loved you

so i studied all night in his school

he taught that the duty of lovers

is to tarnish the golden rule

and just when i was sure that his teachings were pure

he drowned himself in the pool

his body is gone but back here on the lawn

his spirit continues to drool

an eskimo showed me a movie

he'd recently taken of you

the poor man could hardly stop shivering

his lips and his fingers were blue

i suppose that he froze when the wind took your clothes

and i guess he just never got warm

but you stand there so nice, in your blizzard of ice

oh, please let me come into the storm