Be not proud –
The world’s round,
Days get long,
Missy Joan.
Your pride moves mountains!
You’re now like the fountains
Of a king –
Untouchable!
Remember when we first met?
“You’re the best, dear Jim
Can’t compare you to them”.
Now you blame me –
Won’t even give an ear to me!
That my bridges burnt
That I caused you hurt!
You’ll die, I know
And so shall I, you know;
Both maggot food
We’ll lie for good.
Of a disease so shameful
Caused by you being girlful.
And yet you blame me . . .
And yet . . . yet, you BLAME ME!