couldn't careless

The house is cold tango whenever we lift the subject
So put a knife through the window and a hand on your mouth
And your hat in your hand
The clouds come close to killing after sun'sdown
With their hands in their hair
Both the willy-nilly and the willing avoid the rain's pound
Keep it a secret from the stairs and the attic
Or what have it
Some small sum of sound
The mice cry boldsong and tip-tap tall canes
And profane tails belie full bellies
The kitchen-in-a-basket halts a hand-off to your bend
Where a lovin' oven trying patience pends
So put a bookcase in your jacket and stuff it
Put up your mitts and tough it out, scout
Keep your buttons from drowning
Set your facers to frowning
And hold your own hand this time 'round