Poem to memory of Lasse

He left the broad road, the hell wears,
but Lasses buddies laughing, he had a love that tears.

He loved his neighbour, both she and I and you in life
He loved all women, most of them, except just his wife

As bees buzzing around the entrance, he was swarmed and went towards the city down
It was the sweet honey he wanted to taste it, he really wanted to have it, in the town

Inside the tavern, he tiptoed softly and his engine hummed and spun
The rustling of the low-cut blouses, bobbing and hips, hands they found for fun

He sought out the warmth, where love's flame was burning fiercely, like wound
He groped in the darkness, it felt so comfortable, but it was his wife that he found

He pulled slowly back, retreated towards the end, it all felt hard
Then he felt a handbag swung, it hit him, she had a much better gard.

He slipped on the stairs that down to the underworld powers go
He hears music and bells play somewhere, he does not understand it even though

It was the narrow soul and was his big heart that attracted him there and bite
He wanted to hear the cries of women lid tenderness and pain, but it got dynamite

He had never asked for the higher powers they had never gone to reach
Now there was only Bra-s and a panty confession of faith

He had never seen up to higher powers and toward heaven stool
But today he heard the music of the devil chapel playing cool

Now he travels the taxi never again and he will not have to pay with his card
The credit was spacious but the payment melted away on the yard

Do not burn your candle at night, try not to flee far away from court
Especially if you have a wife who likes your wick is too short

Beware of flammable women bombs if they are of such doubtable sort
Do not hold your wick near her, especially if the fuse is short.