Scene on the roadcars turning slowly round itflowers in rowswatered By unseen powersin orderly homesempty and still Like summerhotter than romeafter a cold december I guess it's notso hot Beverly rose Early from bed one morningshe'll see how it goescoffee and absent Browsingdead in a rowcrushed in a dusty buildingdo these Monsters knowthe Daily Mail's read by childrenguess it's not, so hot I get my copy for free these days Life in the caliphate's got pretty weird of late, So cut off yourfinger nails, The French they all eat horse and Horse and horse and horse and snails