Private Function

Had a ticket to a private function.
Master of ceremonies, king of sleeze.
Never made it to the party
cos he tore the skin from his knees.

Explanation:

I had a polished rickshaw, took me all over town.
He ran, while I drank nectar straight from the stem.

Sometimes when he coughs, he trips.
Cuts his hands on the gravel, and loses all hope of a tip.
Green glass, makes warm slits in his wrists.
Full of tar and roadsigns, telling him where to head next.