Coma Toes

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John T. Wurzer

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Well I met a woman with soft yellow hair
She had fire in her throat and she had plenty to spare
Whenever she laughed it was poems and prose
But when I go her in bed she had coma toes

Yeah her feet were like icicles rubbing my shins
I asked her Is this where it ends and begins?
She smiled as her ankles turned blue and then froze
And slowly confessed that she had coma toes

She painted her fingers in red white and blue
She frosted her hair until everyone knew
She colored her eyelids until passion arose
But by the warmth of her fire she had coma toes

Oh yes her feet were like icicles rubbing my thigh
As opposed to the fire I could see in her eye
Tossed toward the ceiling with the windows all closed
Frozen feet in my bedroom she had coma toes

When virtue and emptiness passed to the past
I asked her if love was a thing that could last
But because of her longings and her yearnings for snows
She ran to the winter and became coma toes

Oh yes her feet were like icicles rubbing by back
I asked her if that's how the chips have to stack
Let them fall where they may
She said anything goes
You'd better turn up the heat my feet have got coma toes

From the top of her head to the ball of her heel
She tried not to wander yeah she tried not to feel
As the wind dies for kites and on the golf course it blows
In just the same way she became coma toes

Ah yes her feet were like icicles rubbing my
I asked her
What's wrong?
Am I making you sick?
She tossed back her hair and wailed nobody knows
What it's like to be riding a bike when you've got coma toes

Oh yes her feet were like icicles rubbing my
I asked her If I get too close will I stick?
She laugh like farm girl when the first rooster crows
And she said use your head you're in bed with coma toes

Well I met a woman with soft yellow hair
She had fire in her throat and she had plenty to spare
But whenever she laughed it was poems and prose
And when I go her in bed she said I've got coma toes

Oh yes her feet were like icicles rubbing my shins
Is this where it ends and begins
And she slowly confessed as she undressed that she had coma toes

Oh yes her feet were like icicles rubbing my shins
My thighs and my back with original sins
And down to the place where the volcano explodes
Interrupting eruptions corrupted by coma toes

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