Memo From Turner Testo

Didn't I see you down in San Antone on a hot and dusty night?We were eating eggs in Sammy'sWhen the black man there drew his knifeAw, you drowned that Jew in RamptonAs he washed his sleeveless shirtYou know, that Spanish-speaking gentlemenThe one we all called "Kurt"Come now, gentleman, I know there's some mistakeHow forgetful I'm becoming, now you fixed your bus'ness straightI remember you in Hemlock Road in nineteen fifty-sixYou're a faggy little leather boy with a smaller piece of stickYou're a lashing, smashing hunk of man;Your sweat shines sweet and strongYour organs working perfectly, but there's a part that's not screwed onWeren't you at the Coke convention back on nineteen sixty-fiveYou're the misbred, grey executive I've seen heavily advertisedYou're the great, gray man whose daughter licks policemen's buttons cleanYou're the man who squats behind the man who works the soft machineCome now, gentleman, your love is all I craveYou'll still be in the circus when I'm laughing, laughing on my graveWhen the old men do the fighting and the young men all look onAnd the young girls eat their mothers meat from tubes of plasticonBe wary of these my gentle friends of all the skins you breedThey have a tasty habitthey eat the hands that bleedSo remember who you say you are and keep your noses cleanBoys will be boys and play with toys so be strong with your beastOh Rosie dear, doncha think it's queer, so stop me if you pleaseThe baby is dead, my lady said, "you gentlemen, why you all work for me?