Norman Ball



About the Author
Norman Ball is a Virginia-based writer, musician and videographer. My stuff's appeared in rattle Home Prairie Companion, Liberty and numerous others. I've been doing a lot of video-poetry and poetry-based music whatever the difference is.






Willy Lepers (song)
Well I found an itch that can't be traced
a line too narrow aiming for the midriff
tell-tale heart and you beat the crime
sleepin on the street an' heavin on a dead rhyme
style, stealing thunder, people wanna play
but you gotta take a number
I ate the blame to get it all worked out
prop me up like a deathrow inmate
deadweight. bangin on the pink house
hangin at the cathouse tappin at the outrage
prance it lance it dance it advance it
slip into a back page pimpin for a new age.

But she's been deaf to my drift and dirt
Slip it to the uplift, hip til it hurt
knocking at the waist, ah sweet taste
arms like licorice, thighs like a bad case
fox chase black lace
zip that woody gonna make a pearl necklace.

pity on the righteous honorin the heroes
dying on the beaches leavin us zeroes
whadda we got left now? whadda we got left?
mish-mash black hash fast cash strange rash
who called me?

You just lost your higher station!
I will help you find salvation!

Well ain't that a stitch. It can't be traced
a pumped up middle struttin like a blowfish
dip that stick and you fish for crabs
kickin up the heat makin like it hurt bad
scrub clam chowder people wanna know
but you gotta have a powder
I ate the blame to get it all laid out
prop me up like a deathrow inmate

pity on the righteous honorin the heroes
dying on the beaches leavin us zeroes
whadda you got now? what you got in there now?
mish-mash black hash fast cash strange rash
who called me?

try my way lemme swab yer deck c'mon!
slip me on like a rubber neck c'mon!
pick my brain on the telephone c'mon!
slap my ass so I'm not alone c'mon!
eat my lunch I'm a mess inside c'mon!
lets do brunch I could use a ride c'mon!
smile right through cause you wear it well c'mon!
die for me cause I'm bored as well c'mon!

You have lost your higher station!
I will help you find salvation!

pity on the righteous honorin the heroes
dying on the beaches leavin us zeroes
tappin you the hum drum stick a fukkie bun-bun
what have you left us? what have you left us?
mish-mash black hash fast cash strange rash
ahh what have you left us? what have you left us?
what have you left? what have you left us?
why has it got to be? What have you done to me?
why can't I make one and one make three...


© Norman Ball

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