This is a list of my impending flaws,
The decending Cons of deceptive flaws,
Back draws, saw jigs and fish goes
and Who knows what goes that stops,
The home that's not or the grows that crop?
Suss the Dr of playing words foul,
so we end on a vowel, desperate.
Slip it in there, all sneaky,
like pulling a U-ee and picking up a nose,
Or sleeping through the alarm,
'Cause you overdozed and didn't wash your cloths.
Or trim your beard, or hear yourself in anothers fear,
Like eunichs to God, or flames to moths, torcherous.
Alcohol to the self-consious.
Those who've lost the Just and jest in pretense,
With bad puns and free bets.
There's a lot on my mind but it's what goes on inside,
That plays games with my head and boggles the mind.
Cest la vie, and vie la cest.