08 April, 2011

Longish Title

...I got this, you got this/Now you know it....

This is almost literally the only thing I've done today. Fucking rain.

Arugala April Poetry Tribute To Bebecka Lack


Seven AM I get up in the morning
Gotta cook fresh food in the kitchen downstairs
No clean bowls, can't have cereal
Seeing everything in the pantry
With expired 'best by' dates, gotta rush and
Gotta chow down on some quick slop
Carton from the fridge, I grab a pan

Salt is on my right side
Pepper's on my left side
Gotta make my mind up
Which spice can I shake?

It's fried egg, fried egg
Gotta chow down on fried egg
Wheat bread for my toast is just the butt end, butt end
Fried egg, fried egg
Scarfin down a fried egg
Every day I eat one and I worry about my rear end

You know what it is
I got eggs, you got eggs
They're not even green, say
I got ham, you got ham
Now you know it

Salt is on my right side
Pepper's on my left side
Gotta make my mind up
Which spice can I shake?

It's fried egg, fried egg
Gotta chow down on fried egg
Wheat bread for my toast is just the butt end, butt end
Fried egg, fried egg
Scarfin down a fried egg
Every day I eat one and I worry about my rear end

Dieting Dieting (yeah)
Tired of dieting (yeah)
Fun, fun, it's no fun
But I worry about my rear end

Last night I was thirsty, thirsty
Today I eat a fried egg
Me, me, me, I'm delighted
Burner ignited
Gonna eat up all my fried egg

Tomorrow is gym day
And I'll be sore afterwards
I won't eat this old piece of bread

It's fried egg, fried egg
Gotta chow down on fried egg
Wheat bread for my toast is just the butt end, butt end
Fried egg, fried egg
Scarfin down a fried egg
Every day I eat one and I worry about my rear end

I figure if I have to have that stupid song stuck in my head, it may as well have better lyrics.


I'll be in a murder mystery tonight; Drop Dead, Gorgeous. But it's a private gig, so even if you wear a red carnation, I won't see you there.

(Rebecca Black; Friday)

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