Blighter

Well, we over here resting on this precarious end,
really don’t give a damn what they might say,
because we ain’t near to dancing with each other,
unless you would maybe like to make a wager.

See, baby, them regions are broken right now,
which means they once were not in pieces,
yet there are certainly surviving quarters still intact,
dividing your belly into holy stations of a cross.

Yeah, their will is extremely strong as a performance,
rocking aloud that wicked little steeple beyond,
to launch its feeble congregation above new doubts,
but retaining no chance for long-lasting avoidance.

Okay, you never learned enough from empty arguments,
knowing sometimes when it’s spewed out of strangers,
except friends clench your brains firmly behind your heart,
stuck in voluntary chains with the key inside their mouth.

Easy, sweetie, it could always lay down for you first,
stretched thin and low as a snake’s skin of solace,
tightly rode atop with eyes closed and trembling cheers,
followed of course suddenly by your inevitable falling.

Hey, everyone has joyously sung that precious song,
the child in us chants it as we pass opportunities,
while a sore tail relays quite a different set of values,
both decidedly at odds stacked against the player.