Mr. Blue



Mr. Blue is a friend of mine, But Mr. Blue is not kind. Mr. Blue can see you now Reading words and writing down Your thoughts, comments, fine critiques, Mr. Blue makes houses squeak. He listens to you describe your day, Each and every word you say. A madness in his eyes, a fire. And sickly wet teeth in his mouth of mire. He can see you drink. He can see you spew. He can see you shit. He can see you screw. But watching is and never was The dark task of this man of faux pas. He'll grind your teeth in mortar bowl. He flay your skin and remove limbs whole. Unless his verse is passed on by victim He'll get to you, this is dictum. And next time sleep comes for you So also will Mr. Blue.