Karma
Listen my children so you can hear
the rustlings of a brand new year
One pre-filled with things mysterious
Like storms that roar of deeds insidious.
‘Tis not the season to be jolly
As nature billows in our way
And bends the ears of the wise and foolish
And fills the air with pomp and circumstance.
As we inch along life’s rugged path
Neither pride nor prejudice
Nor good intentions
Can change our self-made destinies.
So come all ye faithful
We’ve nothing more to lose
Let’s fight to take our country back
If it’s still the one we choose.
Knock knock...
Who’s there?
Gitoff…
Gitoff who?
Gitoff that cliff muttonhead
And let our flock come home!
Rebecca
I'll be in there fighting with you.
Ron