The Subject Was Faggots

The Subject Was Faggots
and the «e was «ain't nothin' happenin' but faggots and dope»
Faggots and dope, faggots and faggots and faggots who line dot dot dot dot dot
Like that, 34th street and 8th avenue
Giggling and grinning and prancing and shit
Trying their best to see to see the misses and misery
and miscellaneous misfits who attend the faggot ball
faggots who have come to ball
faggots who have come to ball
faggots who were balling because they couldn’t get their balls
inside the faggot hall
Balling, balling, ball-less faggots
cutie cootie and snoodie faggots
I mean you just had to dig it to dig it
the crowning attraction being the arrival of Ms Brooklyn
looking like a half-back in a mini-skirt
with swan feathers covering
his err hers a it’s pectoral and balls
and he err she or it prepared to enter the faggot ball
but sitting on the corner digging all that I did as I did
long long, black limousines and long flowin' evening gowns
had there been no sign on the door saying «faggot ball»
I might have entered, and god only knows just what would’ve happened