“The last time I saw
Poor Repugnant
He was walking on towards
the sky-way
With banana-peel eyes, and
sorrowful sentences
Singing songs of his disposition

With his rail-rod instincts
and his material poof by his side
Some say he would go forever
and never die
But me I knew that someday
his time would come,
to be singing songs of his disposition

With his long fur coat
that he had covered in plastic
With his concubine and his cigarettes,
he lumbered on
He was going ta’ pray to Ra
to light his eternal smoke”