Honey, It's True

Flat and circular. One side wet, the other dry.
Host placed on a tongue by the only priest in Dubai.
Windows on U-boat stalking destroyers on the zigzag,
Could also fit the description laid out in the first line. You dig?

Dag.

A favorite word for kids not brave enough to say damn,
Ever cautious that pop was around the corner with hands of ham,
Cracking the first underage mouth that uttered words profane,
So it was in the first days of television ads for Rogaine.
That was big news. For yous. New hair hopes weren’t so grim,
Back when Polynesian sibling singing act got it all over him,

Honey it’s true. Reuters is reporting some ill shit all the time,
Brokaw’s talking about how chicken sickens, human cloning’s here, but still a crime.
Nanotechnology, robot vacuum cleaners, SARS and AIDS got married,
Had a little virus baby, they gave birth to it in some poor bastard that carried,
Diseases started by some brainiac-fuck, control-freak. White coat, white sleeves.
No foresight as to what kind of tracks treading into virgin snow might leave.

I grieve to think about what life’s gonna offer when I’m long in the tooth,
Perhaps one of Ponce De Leon’s descendants will find that fountain of youth,
Unlikely. Me and everyone I know will be old, popping pills trying not to die.
Dropped train token in a puddle; one side wet, the other dry.