I go from one extreme to another. She was a red hot hoochie coocher. Sometimes, it seems, an entire song is built up around one perfect line, put some words before and aft, don’t bother worrying their quality for any sparkle might diminish the glory of the chosen seed line because I ain’t going to be easy. Nowadays I’m lost between two shores but I’m only dancing, she turns me on. One got wasted but the other’s a waste.
Lord Malinov, Song of Songs