+best read with the solemn tune of a harmonica in mind
while the bank account’s a’salivatin’
my salty lips they are a’puckerin’
slumped in my chair, turning like a crank
I’m whining and squeaking, being so frank
about the soreness in my ass
and ratcheting up the sass.
I got a feelin’ a lot like a growl
rumblin’ in my tummy like I ate something foul
and I can’t take the pace or the look on the face of the clock as it lazes about.
but my will power won’t hold out cause I don’t want to go without
what a stupid reason, I been thinkin’
cause my hearts been sinkin’
with the feelin’ I’m letting my life pass by
and I’m startin’ to get a little bit a sweat on the inside of my thigh.
So as a treat, for my true grit, I think I go and buy myself a pie.