Critique Oblique - Stereo Mix

Critic of the black and white
 It's your first night.
 The Passion Play gets in the way,
 Spoils your insight.
 Tell me how the baby's made,
 How the lady's laid,
 Why the old dogs howl with sadness.
 The blue thing in the ball leaves naught but a bloody footprint on
 the memory of last summer's trip to Europe
 Did you buy a passport from the queen?
 And your little sister's immaculate virginity wings away on the bony
 shoulder of a young horse named George who stole surreptitiously
 into her geography revision.
 The examining body examined her body.