Kafka's Crow
07-02-2008, 09:52 AM
Induced by a Bowl of Erinmore
Where is John, that little sh1te,
The one who started every fight?
Always busy in the ground
Lots of fury and even more sound.
That Goth in sable, Weirdo Bob
We all thought he was a right ‘knob’
Would not talk to any one
His Dad in ‘business’, he, the only son.
Stinky Collin, never washed
Front teeth missing, still unabashed
He’d laugh at his betters, one and all
(and stole from every shop on the Mall.)
And I, the friendless, lonely beast
Who thought of others (I did, at least)
Thought how very alive they were
How their world was void of all care.
Johnny works in a factory now
Weirdo Bob enjoys the dough
His father left him in his will
And Collin was taken by ol’ Bill.
While I sit here in a cloud of smoke
Always thinking, always broke
Those faces come and visit me
In these times of serenity.
Where is John, that little sh1te,
The one who started every fight?
Always busy in the ground
Lots of fury and even more sound.
That Goth in sable, Weirdo Bob
We all thought he was a right ‘knob’
Would not talk to any one
His Dad in ‘business’, he, the only son.
Stinky Collin, never washed
Front teeth missing, still unabashed
He’d laugh at his betters, one and all
(and stole from every shop on the Mall.)
And I, the friendless, lonely beast
Who thought of others (I did, at least)
Thought how very alive they were
How their world was void of all care.
Johnny works in a factory now
Weirdo Bob enjoys the dough
His father left him in his will
And Collin was taken by ol’ Bill.
While I sit here in a cloud of smoke
Always thinking, always broke
Those faces come and visit me
In these times of serenity.