Your carpet smells of death and I cannot bear it.
Run the Hoover on that Berber and I might just wear it.
Not as a coat or a pair of tight knitted gloves you fool,
a cape, a scarf, a wool-scented pocket tool!
How does one walk amidst this room you call a room?
Clean it up and have some pride,
Haven’t you ever heard of a broom?
And what’s that stain near the heel of your foot?
You’ve stepped in piss without a care,
and here I stand, ankle-deep in shit and soot!
Your carpet smells of death you cretin!
For god’s sake do something!