Get that Stinkin’ song out of my head…!

Watched James Bond, yes oh, oh seven,

The music with the guitar may be to him heaven,

But to me it reeks of stale smoke and bread made of leaven,

The last time I did like it was way back when I was young, like eleven…

But I cannot get that song out of my head,

It will be there even when I am in bed,

What will I dream of tonight, pizza, my dinner of choice,

Then pot to smoke to boggle my brain, maybe a dream of being dead…

Not that that subject does scare me, my mind dead since I was misled,

No one told me, I swear it to you is the truth, no one ever said,

Pot will burn out your brain, giving your life a permanent strain,

Please get that song out of my head, just shoot me, yes go ahead…

                        © ed ~ 8/29/04