What could be sweeter than suckers for supper?
What more delicious than warm rotting meat?
What could be faster than cars without pistons?
And warmer in winter than thin cotton sheets?
What is more just than a fool being lauded?
What is more fitting than joy in a hearse?
Foolishness happily dances its victory.
And we're all lined up for a spin with this curse.
Stand on your head for a walk on the sky.
Go to the pasture to purchase a pie.
Or if you are conscious and have some heart left...
Then ponder the damage and cry.
Sit yourself down and just cry.
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