+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.

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