Indicted
Idiosyncrasies.
Call me a fool
How did he rule
And pull the wool
Over
so many eyes
Idiots sin in the city,
Idiosyncrasies,
Peculiar behaviour,
Performed by a raver,
In trouble up to his knees.
He says, let’s settle for sin it’s easy,
A clutch of the crutch is okay,
I’ll meet you at six,
Stay in the mix,
And bring along Bugsy Malone.
And when it’s all over, his role in the clover,
He’s helped back onto his feet,
It’s all very well,
To show and not tell,
What he’s done he says is incomplete
He’s in denial all on his file
Indicted, now who could have picked it
Mugshots and fingerprinted too
Are you the few in the crew
Thinks about what next, he will do
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So, as they sin in the city,
We’ll sort megalomaniacs here,
We’ll put them in rows,
Till everyone knows,
Nothing he does is ever made clear.
I call it idiosyncratic,
I’m blinded by the light,
Things that go bump,
Like Donald Trump,
Are the mares that cause fright in the night
So, throw him in gaol and deny bail
And settle him in for a fright,
He is so scared of sin,
And diseases they bring,
And the bogeys that appear in the night.
©
David Rudder
2023
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