60.

the boys i mean are not refined
they go with girls who buck and bite
they do not give a fuck for luck
they hump them thirteen times a night

one hangs a hat upon her tit
one carves a cross on her behind
they do not give a shit for wit
the boys i mean are not refined

they come with girls who bite and buck
who cannot read and cannot write
who laugh like they would fall apart
and masturbate with dynamite

the boys i mean are not refined
they cannot chat of that and this
they do not give a fart for art
they kill like you would take a piss

they speak whatever's on their mind
they do whatever's in their pants
the boys i mean are not refined
they shake the mountains when they dance

ee cummings

Je vois bien de qui il parle, il en parle bien. Justement c'est l'haleine sale de l'ivresse et le pourri du fruit. C'est l'alcool mauvais qui ramène ses esprits quand toi tu les perds. C'est la joie pure assassinée. Le viol de la béatitude.