Thursday, August 5, 2010

A Talk With The Old Man

I hear you want to travel boy
Well let me steer you clear
There's things out there
That will curl your hair
And strike you mighty queer!

Sometimes at night I pray to God
When I lay down to sleep
That my head's still on come morning
And nothing eats my feet!

Our house is full of knives and things
Their sharpness warms my soul
If the world gets in
I'll just slug some gin
And stab it full of holes!

Don't you know that it's impossible
To fly with broken wings?
You'll sail away a little ways
And fall into the sea!

Down there at the bottom
The fish will eat your eyes
You can't move
And you can't speak
But there's no way to die!

No girl wants a dapper Dan
Who's rotting all the time
She'll take one breath
Of your ghoulish stench
And then she'll start to cry!

But the ladies love a dapper Dan
That gives them shiny things
A little golden pocket watch
Some beeswax or some rings
But they don't like when you take your knife
And give their throats a smile
But at least then
When they've lost their heads
They're quiet for awhile!

Your mother was a woman
Who would eat the tar off roads
Make me chew my toenails
And have affairs with toads!
But then one night I found her
In the field behind the house
She was clearly dead
For she had no head
But she still called me a louse!

Don't look so sad my boy my lad
For my advice is sound
Take two years
And then your fears
Will be buried in the ground
The worms that eat the baseboard
They sing a merry tune
Lets take a swig from my powder keg
And dance around the room!

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