Sewer rats and alley cats sleepin' on doormats
while the bureaucrats eat bacon fats sippin' on sazeracs
A penny for your thoughts, not regurgitated words,
can a thought be bought? The notion's absurd,
but a dollar for your thoughts, now we're in business,
runnin' mouth, sellin wits, but bought thoughts are counterfits,
contrived shits for the nitwits
and common sense illiterates,
But the irrationally rebellious blunder just the same,
buffeted by fortune and fame, gotta find yourself to be sane,
Simon says stop,
simon says go,
simon says, simon says,
no simon, simon
fuck the rules except for the one,
the old, the simple, the golden, that's my religion,
he say – well you stole it from mine
good then, now follow the rule, and steal it back anytime
Does the filly have a silly philosophy, or is she
possibly in capable of sophistry? Does she
tail-slap the fly as it buzzes by
to protect her eye (to the bug a pie);
or when it alights on her thigh does its bite make her cry;
or is she simply shy, and thus the fly
should die when it's nigh ? Is it to pry
to even ask why?
Just because the tucan can can-can
doesn't mean he's incapable of a new plan,
Stand, step, clap, flap, rap
Some say that's nonsense
and maybe so
but there's sense in nonse
a sense of flow
Does the corpus have a purpose?
Is it simply to pose,
this question to the circus?
Is there anyone that knows?
There's sight to the blind,
Nutriments to the rind,
an allure to the hind,
a joy to the grind,
of no lesser kind.
Violence is venomous no matter the varnish, and
A silver tongue is swell but even that'll tarnish, but
if yuh take the sting of a bee placed just right
it can be the remedy to the odd plight
Pliable opinions are more powerful than fixed ones
slip shift and dissolve, flux fresh into new ones
the solid idea has limits, no matter how engrossing
while the liquid idea is all encompassing
Does the frog on the log in the bog think it's rad
to hop from pad to pad; is he glad
to snatch a snack from the air – does he care
that he didn't ask for the life to share?
Does he wonder of the pollywog? Does he know what he was?
Does he think of 'because?' When he croaks in the night
does he think of the mate? Can he relate?
Can he dictate? or is it fate?