I followed every single step
|
Listen in didactic manuals.
|
I sat up straight.
|
I prayed to God.
|
I dress my shutters in matching paint.
|
I pressed my nose to the grindstone.
|
I did everything I was told.
|
I rubbed elbows with the elite
|
But I still feel so empty.
|
|
His parents divorced over
|
Mother's paturient belly,
|
Who, in keeping with martyrdom,
|
Died upon boy's delivery.
|
His father always blamed him
|
For her early departure.
|
He was born alone.
|
He lived alone.
|
He'll rot alone.
|
And die alone.
|
|
I followed every single step
|
Listen in didactic manuals.
|
I sat up straight.
|
I prayed to God.
|
I dress my shutters in matching paint.
|
I pressed my nose to the grindstone.
|
I did everything I was told.
|
I rubbed elbows with the elite
|
But I still feel so empty.
|
|
He sits alone and sobs
|
Immersed in his trappings of luxury.
|
He's never been a big drinker
|
But tonight his liver would not know it.
|
The burdens have become a crushing load.
|
The wrenching twist will soon cause a shift.
|
The pressure, fleeting and pounding.
|
I feel the trigger give.
|
|
-----------------
|
Harry Frazee And No, No, Nannette
|
Forgive Durden |