They see me

In the corner

Of the streets

 

They hear me

Dancing to the

Tambourine I hold

 

They know me

Charming with my

Snake slithers

 

They brand me

With iron, red

As a whore

 

Yet I'll dance

To the tambourine

That's been my gift

 

I'll live in

The corner of

The streets, 

 

For the tambourine

Has much more

Pleasant sounds

 

Than the bongos

They dance

Whorefully with

 

I'll dance and slither

As a snake, for

Mammals

 

Soft in their

Fur, have the

Sharpest fangs

 

I'll make this

Corner, my humble

Home,

 

For the tombs

They live in are

Infested with worms

 

I'll drink my

Wine, for it is

Much more sweet

 

Than the sour

Grapes they

Toast with to 

Celebrate

 

I have a tambourine

And although it

Disrupts their ears,

 

I'll dance, for it is

My dance, and my dance

Alone, and frankly,

I genuinely don't care.