Merry Merry

Merry Merry quite contrary

What a little bag of pus
Thought he'd leave but it
Made him grieve

So
Now he's come back to us

Pretending to be all outraged
Pretending to give a damn
Still asserting he's all knowing
Still the sacrificial lamb

Offered up by his own arrogance
Offered up on the plate of hate
Doomed to ride the nowhere train
Condemned to his own self chosen fate

Merry Merry quite contrary
Back in his new priggish front
Wants to hit a home run but
He's only got guts enough to bunt

Why does he waste his time
Why is he completely lost
Because the doors to the soul are open
And you don't have to pay the cost

But still he searches his pockets
For nickle shit and dimes
Brushing the truth manically aside
In his mad mad search

For the hidden signs



Neils
9:17 am
05/27/2006
*
transcribed this time
9:22 am
05/27/2006


N....again