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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Other · #1264738
I'm the walrus who speaks for the trees which you seem to be smoking as fast as you please
A funny man in a short silk skirt,
a happy ham in a world of hurt.
I'll polish my smile, and look for a while,
just where I put my dignity.
Up in the air, right by your hair!
Is there enough for me?

O' self-centered satisfaction,
free me from your curse,
And save me from your stupid action!
I need to see the nurse!

One more time, I'll shoot the mime,
Again I will feel sick.
You need to leave, you make me heave.
I really cannot pick.

Now God is a dish that's best served cold.
Don't eat the love, it's getting old,
and when you drink, from out the sink,
I'de like to think,
That all the lead, there in your head,
Isn't what I was fed.

So I'll rhyme time and mime and lime,
but never you and I.
And when I speak a word of thought,
I really don't why,
I forgot it all inside the pot,
and left my black bird in the pie.

Now i'm late for school, I'm a silly fool,
but I really am depressed!
It's all your fault, cause I said halt,
and then I thouched your chest.
Don't jerk away, just come and play,
I really am the best!
Please listen dear, I'm talking here,
I can pass your test!

Now look at me, my honey-bee,
and tell me what you see...
A hungry man in a frying pan?
But, did you see the tree?!?
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