Dirty Walls Talkin' Dirty

[stendhal]

To clout the sound of the clouds I smoked 'em out.
There's too many idle words for paint to spout
I thought the walls would at least keep the wind out and about
But they're about, they're about, they're about
they're all about talkin tall
and they can't not cant on
Even the eagerest of ears
love eyes on their tongue
So what can you do
when you're fond of blue hues
And you're stuck in the tub
Stoned, and working on drunk.